Leaving an impression...

So, I had quite a beat down this week, gang. Seriously. I don't know how or why these things keep happening to me, but go big or go home, right? Right.

So, here is what happened to me on Wednesday morning...

4 AM, I awoke to go to the restroom. Nothing out of the ordinary. I am transferring from the bed to my wheelchair. I do this type of thing multiple times a day, but here is number 5,987 reason as to why I abhor the current wheelchair I am using...

MOST chairs, when you press the power switch downward, the power turns off. This chair? Well, of COURSE this chair has to be different. Flipping this switch downward turns the chair on. Well, I am scooting back in the chair when the sleeve of my sweatshirt catches the joystick. I get thrown from the chair in a Jerry Springer type way....and THEN? My sweatshirt, still stuck on my joystick, runs over my feet. Talk about PAIN. Sweet Jesus, it was awful. So, here I am...on the floor, gotta pee, and an electric wheelchair is on top of me.

I squeal. I scream. I cry. I say tons of words that aren't lady-like. And I pray. There is a huge problem. Both the hotel phone and my cell phone are on the other side of the room, making it out of reach for both me and Bedford. I am wincing in pain, trying to stay calm, so that my muscle contractions don't make matters worse. There is ONE thing in Bedford's reach. My iPad. I point to it, Bedford fetches it. Good Boy!

I proceed to go down the list of people on facebook chat until SOMEONE responded. "Are you up?" I sent that to nearly 30 people. Two people finally respond. While I am trying to type out the horrific state and dire need for help, my precious dog apparently senses the urgency, and he starts barking. Hey,  sound the alarm, right?

The front desk person knocks on my door. She says, "I ain't comin' in cause o' yo dawg!" I yell out that I am not able to get to the door and need help. She said, "Oh, Jesus! I gots 911 on they way!" Swell. By the way, Bedford is still barking, poor thing.

Finally help arrives. Three firemen come through the door. "Where are you, ma'am?!"they call out. I respond with, "I am over here, under the wheelchair. I am not exactly decent, and for that, I apologize, but happy Wednesday!"

One of the firemen sees me and says, "Hoooooooo-llllly shit!" No kidding. That's what I was thinking/feeling, too. So, three firemen lift the chair off of me. I cried a little. Bedford shoots over to me, I let him know I am okay. Poor little guy was probably as happy as I was at that point. So, then the firemen put me in my chair. Local time at this point? 6:27AM. I have tire tracks on one foot, and blood all over the other. Seems I lost half a toenail and my once on-the-mend sore on my ankle has been aggravated.

Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug. Every inch of me hurts. I have serious scrapes and bruises. But, it could have, and should have been SO much worse.

Wednesday morning, I was thankful for my iPad. I was thankful for my friends who were awake at an ungodly hour. I was thankful for my dog, and was thankful for being rescued. Thank you, Lord, for your provision, and for being my sustainer. Now, please, re-heal my foot. :)