Tonight is my 30th High School Reunion, scheduled in the casual and amazing environment of Richmond Brewing. Our classmates own the establishment and have agreed to let us assemble and celebrate without a lot of formal to-do.
But I don't know if I'm going to go.
I was on the reunion committee. I love the food and the beer at Richmond Brewing. It should be fun.
But I'm stressed and if I'm honest, I'm scared. And I think this is probably the first time I really wished my service dog was already here. Because having that dog would relieve some of the physical barriers to attending, which might help my emotional issues.
I'm already showered and dressed and ready to mingle. But I'm struggling with my own mobility today-- which if you aren't a regular reader I have diplegic spastic cerebral palsy which means I have issues controlling my legs. Last weekend I took a medium fall. I didn't do any permanent damage, though I did damage my expensive glasses, probably delayed healing of my sprained right pinky, and got myself some nasty bruises and bumps on the head.
But today I fell again. This is is going to sound ridiculous (my trainer Andrew can probably vouch for me here, I think he's seen it happen) but I can't pick up my feet today. Primarily my right one. It's dragging. It got caught in the cracks between the sidewalk and down I went. No damage, my Apple Watch didn't even alert.
Which is probably a good thing as I've been enrolled in the Women's Heart Health and Mobility Study at Brigham & Women's Hospital in Massachusetts and when I fall and my watch registers it, they call to check on me. I talked with them for a half hour on Monday.
I fell on the way to the gym, and my workout went fine, although at the same time, I struggled with some muscle control.
I went over to the Christ United Methodist Church for their craft and vendor fair where Joe Swarctz, our fearless illustrator and the creator of Echo City Capers, was selling the latest in children's books. I didn't fall, but every bump on the sidewalk or imperfection in the floor challenged my balance.
The Teenager has to work tonight, so I'll be on my own for the reunion tonight. And I'm scared. It's about 30 minutes up there, and with my recent layoff gas money is tight, plus I won't be able to have a beer. And it would have been my father's 75th birthday today, if he were still with us, so that has me in a horrible, dejected mood.
If I had my service dog, I would feel safer. I would at least feel more secure about my ability to navigate walking. And I would know that I would have another living thing there that could help me if something did happen. I know that all of my classmates at the Reunion would be helpful, but there's a certain comfort from those who already know what you need and how to help. Because it's a dreadful feeling when you have an accident in public, and people want to help and no one quite knows what to do or they do too much or the wrong thing.
I'm not sure what to do, but I know the choice is stressing me out.
But if my balance is already significantly compromised, I don't know if traipsing around an old barn is a good idea.
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