Last week when I was transferring from my chair to a chair in the restaurant, it took careful planning and a couple of tries because my lower body did not want to move.
I've experienced this a couple of other times in my wheelchair.
What surprises me is that I'm not faking anything. My lower legs aren't working. I don't trust my quadriceps to hold me up.
I don't get a thrill that "oo, look at me, I am what I want to be" because I'm concentrating on the situation at hand.
Those moments of struggle and plotting every move are as real as real can be. For one or two brief seconds, they have been alarming.
After it's over, I'm a little amazed that my mind is that strong. Because surely, that's what's orchestrating my lower body's non-cooperation.
No doubt it is my mind, perfectly willing to hypnotize myself into believing what I want to believe.
I don't know how to emphasize how real and how striking these moments are, how they go into a quiet internal space that I don't think my conscious mind has ever seen.
What, I wonder, is that place like? And what else is in there?
1 comment:
I remember that has happened to me before on the bus. It was crowded and someone ran his leg right into mine. My mind tricked itself into believing that I couldn't feel like, and I didn't really react. He apologized and I was like, "It's okay, I didn't even feel it." And I was being truthful.
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