Last night I tried to attend our cul-de-sac block party. I felt it was important to go and build community with my street even though Eric and Ian were out of town on a canoe trip. There are several neighbors on my cul-de-sac I hardly know or ever see so I was looking for this opportunity to connect and build community. I didn’t make it too long because it was ridiculously hot and the air felt thick even with my mask on. When I got home, I felt especially weak and was still having a hard time regaining my breathing. My friends Tammy and Nurse Ali were filling in as caregivers and Suzy was scheduled to come over to “package me up and tuck me in.” Suzy lifted me up from my stair lift seat at the top of the steps where I can usually walk the short distance from my staircase to my bed with support…but not this time. I crumbled…again.
This is when I say “Oh shit!” And like intelligent women do, we problem solved together. Use the hoyer lift? Physically try to lift me up? Use a bed sheet? We decided our best, fastest, and smartest option was to grab a handful of men from the block party to be the muscles and move me and lift me on a bed sheet. The muscle gang showed up and bossy Suzy directed traffic. They laid me flat in the bed sheet, slid me to my bedroom and lifted me like a human taco into my bed. I’m a little sore as expected but not injured so that’s good. So the lesson here learned is — if you can’t make it to the block party, make the block party come to you.