Yesterday began like most days. I awoke in agony, triggering a mini bout of depression, wondering when I would get the next blessed hospital appointment that I was waiting for. The latest bulletin was ‘sometime in December/January’.
This seems like an awful long time to wait, but then I have been in pain since before March of this year, when I lost the use of my legs. I am much stronger now, but there is a nagging suspicion that I might be starting to go backward again, despite sticking religiously to the exercise routine.
What was about to happen that day was to prove just how fragile my condition is. Despite being able to stagger about and do things, I am not confident. Every time I move, I expect to be saying hello to the carpet again. Stairs still terrify me, even though I can now haul myself up them to use the bathroom. We have handrails up both sides, and I make full use of them, something I was about to become very grateful for.
Mid-morning, the call of nature became too strong to ignore, so I staggered to the bottom of the stairs, adjusted my posture and mind to the ordeal, and began to climb. This first time was non-eventful; I managed to complete the mission and make it back down without incident. Half an hour later, I knew I had to go back up the stairs again. Only this time, I had barely reached the top of the stairs before my right leg buckled, and I knew I would fall. Luckily, I was still holding the handrail and somehow managed to pull myself back upright.
I sat on the loo for an age, trying to summon up the courage to stand up and walk to the stairs.
My stomach was churning, and I felt sick. My legs were shaking and I wanted to scream the house down. The thought of what would have happened if my grip had loosened and I had fallen down the entire flight of stairs kept replaying in my mind.
When I managed to summon up a scrap of courage and made it back to the safety of my office, I collapsed on the couch and howled.
The disastrous day didn’t end there, though. Once the family found out, I was subjected to endless lectures about my not being as clever as I thought I was, quickly followed by all the times I had gone against their instructions and gone ahead and tried to do something. Finishing with the usual ‘not being considerate about their fears and worries’.
By this time, I was torn between cutting my wrists in the kitchen (to minimise the mess, of course) to staggering out into the road to play with the traffic…
It all seems to have blown over this morning. We are conversing, with no sign of malice or retribution. So I will try not to cause any more ripples today…
Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes 
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