This pleases me because I rarely see any mention of how my disability might affect ordinary health care decisions.  I know that CP affects my digestion, breathing, and my gynecological health as well as my mobility and my muscle tone.  It’s good to see the CDC recognize that in a General Health publication.

But you know, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”

It actually began a little before Lent. At first I blamed it on the new mattress; I was just sleeping wrong. That’s what was causing the pain in my neck, the tingles in my hands. But the tingles became pain, and tingles started in new places. After a couple of weeks, I screwed up my courage and spoke to my rehab doctor. He ordered a diagnostic test called an EMG. The test was scheduled for Friday, Feb. 29, the third Friday in Lent. That turned out to be very appropriate.

One of the dubious blessings of being a librarian is that I know how to go to Medline Plus to research any medical condition, test, or test result my doctors tell me about. So I found out that an EMG involved electrodes and needles. Oh, boy.

I went in on Friday morning with a metal-free bra and my deodorant in my purse. I took off my crucifix while waiting, but didn’t think about taking off my wedding band (or I would have left it at home). I don’t usually remove it, so taking it off and putting it on the exam room counter gave me a little extra feeling that things were wrong.

The doctor who administered the test was very nice and explained each step. She applied conducting gel to my arm and “zapped” areas on my arms and hands with a little device, and made pen marks on me in various places, measuring here and there. The article I had read didn’t mention a topical shock, so I cheerfully jumped to the conclusion that the needles had been replaced by this little device.

Not so.

Nest came the needles. Electrified needles. She would poke me in an ink mark, and then turn on a current and ask me to move my hand, arm, or wrist in a given direction. Which hurt. The doctor told me that I could stop the test at any time if the pain was too much, and because I could, I didn’t have to.

“If you can sue this pain for good, God, please take it,” I thought, when it wasn’t too bad. When it got worse and my thoughts were less articulate, I just blew out a long breath and prayed in my head, “For the Holy Souls,” and, “Help.”

You know it’s bad when the doctor apologizes. All in all, the shocking, poking, marking and zapping took between an hour and an ninety minutes.

Tomorrow it’s off to the doctor to get an interpretation of the results, and to begin a plan of action. Having read the excellent book The Gift of Pain by Dt. Paul Brand and Philip Yancey, I know that it’s good that I have this pain, that I’m being warned that my body is damaged, and I need to change things.  I know, too, that a little fasting from computer fun (less Chuzzle, more reading) is good as a Lenten discipline. Still… this is a challenge. Trusting that this is being permitted by a God who loves me more than I can imagine is a tougher sell.

This seems to be a common problem for both people who work in libraries and for people who have been using wheelchairs for most or all of their lives.

Prayers for wisdom, willingness to change, and healing are all welcome.

I don’t belong to Second Life (my first life is nuts enough!), but I did just create an avatar on  WeeWorld. I like the WeeWorld avatars because they aren’t particularly buff (they remind me of the “Love is” cartoons from the 70s). And today, when I was perusing the available accessories, I found a wheelchair, and popped her into it. Very happy to do so.
That’s me. Someday I will have a glorified body that does amazing things. And then I suspect I won’t need any mobility aids. but for now, the wheels are a part of how I relate to the world.  Seems incomplete not to include them on a virtual me.

The semester change and all its chaos has washed over me life a might wave, and I forgot my floaties. But I’m back, and I’ll begin to post again a bit more.

Thanks for showing up at my playground again.

Intense and energetic, you aren’t completely happy unless you are bouncing off the walls.

You’re addicted to caffeine. There’s no denying it.

You are responsible, mature, and truly an adult. You’re occasionally playful, but you find it hard to be carefree.

You are sophisticated and daring, but you are never snobby.

Check yourself out at: What Does Your Latte Say About You?

Here we go:

1. My 18th birthday party was a surprise party — held in one of the elevators of my dorm.

2. I was a regional poster child for Easter Seals; one of their first (and last) adolescent poster children. (They called me “a goodwill ambassador,” but we all knew I was a poster child. )

3. I still have a bum shoulder from too much wheelchair disco-dancing at age 17.

4. I could read by the time I was three years old. I don’t remember NOT being able to read.

5. I learned how to do long division AFTER I took my PSAT my junior year in high school.

6. Although I am of mixed European ancestry (with a little Native American thrown in), my childhood-based comfort food is that bright red Chinese barbecued pork, with hot mustard and sesame seeds.

7. My cat is apparently racist. He hisses at all strangers who do NOT have dark skin. (I am whiter than snowpack, but I give him treats and know his scritchy spots, so I am okay.)

8. I live across the street from a movie theater, and yet I own over a dozen unopened DVDs.

I hereby tag Happy Catholic, Cause of Our Joy, Cathy at Recovering Dissident Catholic, Clam Rampant, the guys at Into the Deep, (which should count for three!), and the blogger reading this who thinks, “Nobody ever tags me.”

Here are THE RULES.

For those who’ve been tagged, here are the rules:

Let others know who tagged you.

Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.

Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.

Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.

• Went to vigil Mass at St. Patrick. Actually heard the priest preach about the sanctity of life! “This passage shows clearly that God is in love with us from the womb. … We must love life from the womb. It is just that simple.”
• Today was a day for proximity to fame. Saw both Julie Andrews and Armistead Maupin. Only 100 people got to get books signed by Andrews; Maupin signed multiple books for people and waited while we told him our own stories.
• Do you DC wheelers get to know the holes in the sidewalk pretty well? It’s disconcerting to come up suddenly on an area of missing or uptilted brick.
• I’m in love with the Metro. Even when it’s broken it works!
• Didn’t spend nearly as much time as usual in the exhibits. I just felt squashed by all the walking people. You know, don’t you, walking people, that you don’t walk in straight lines, and that you turn abruptly and walk backwards without looking? Or maybe you really think I’m the erratic and dangerous one.
• That blue and white symbol on the large stall door does not mean “for people in wheelchairs or people with big wheeled luggage.” Just so you know.
• I know we presented an NLS funding resolution to the ALA Council (or will, tomorrow). Don’t know if it will pass, but I expect that it will.
• This is the first time I’ve been on a computer since Thursday. So maybe I really can stop using the Internet any time I want to.
• Then again, I haven’t had supper, and its nearly 8, so maybe my priorities are a bit skewed. Think I’ll go get a bit to eat, and then pack. Later, I’ll tart this post up with relevant links and all.

Tomorrow I head out to join over 13,000 of my colleagues at the American Library Association’s Annual Conference in Washington DC. The phone number I need to summon shuttle vans to help me cope with broken Metro elevators is in my cell phone (itself a shiny new model, since my old phone refused to work anywhere in DC last month).

Right now I’m having my usual pre-flight nerves.

Due to my low-profile pseudonymous  blogging, I can’t tell you that my URL will be on my conference badge, but why not unnerve all of the scooter-using librarians at the conference by asking them if they know TVS? The one you ask just might be me! (Yes, that should be “I” but it grates on my ear.)