Transfer, please

Generally getting Maggie in and out of the wheelchair is a boring and slightly unpleasant task. She weighs about 65 lbs, which is not THAT heavy (unless you do it 50 times a day). The easiest transfers are a chore, and the not so easy ones are very hard on my back, shoulders, hips etc. They are also hard on my nerves.

Sometimes Maggie’s muscle tone is very soft or loose and it is as simple as scooping her up and placing her in the chair. Those transfers are the easiest. It’s just the lifting and buckling of all the straps. (There are 7) Other times she is stiff as a board and getting her into a seated position is very difficult. In order to fit in the seat properly, her butt has to be all the way back. This is nearly impossible to achieve when she is refusing/unable to bend at the hips. I use refusing/unable on purpose. Occasionally she just does not want to be in the chair and will stay as stiff as possible, or she is tight just because she needs a good stretch; but most times, she is stiff because she is excited or laughing very hard. When she gets like that she cannot always relax her muscles and is unable to assist me. These are much more difficult and require straining and repositioning in addition to the lifting and buckling. If she is also making me laugh, it is even harder. The breakdown of easy and difficult is about 70/30- with 70 being more difficult.

Actually, that’s not true. It should be more like 68/28 because there is another 4 or 5% of the time when putting Maggie in the wheelchair is adventurous. Adventure can be perilous, entertaining, or exciting.

A week or so ago I decided to carry Maggie from her room to the front room to her waiting wheelchair. Maneuvering the wheelchair is difficult in this small space and sometimes it is easier to carry Maggie to the chair. Once I have lifted her, carrying her the 20 feet is not that big of a deal (but 100 feet might be). My sister was visiting and was trying to be helpful. As I approached, with Maggie in my arms she moved the wheelchair out of the way. I said, “Don’t. Stop” meaning: “don’t do that, stop what you are doing.” She thought I was going to put Maggie on the floor and assumed I was unable to speak because I was straining under Maggie’s weight. She heard it as “good, don’t stop.” As I moved closer, she moved it farther away. I realized what she was doing and said clearly, “I need to put her in the chair.” She was flummoxed but quickly positioned the chair properly and held it while I put Maggie in. That was like a keystone cop routine that had all three of us laughing.

This morning was not quite as funny. Steve left early this morning for a court appearance in Vallejo. I guess I have grown accustomed to having him around in the morning and I skipped a few steps in the preparation. I did 999 of the 1000 things to get Maggie ready and moved her to the chair. She was excited because she was going to school; that means she was squirming and laughing thus making this transfer in the more difficult category.

Sadly, the one thing I forgot to do was to put the brake on the chair before I transferred her. As Maggie squirmed, the chair kept moving back an inch or so. That made her laugh and jump more and the chair would move again. Remember her 65 pound, squirming, laughing body is in my arms. I’m trying to hit a moving target with a moving target. In addition, all of this is taking place in her very small bedroom with limited maneuverability. I thought we were both going over. Images of firefighters untangling us were dancing in my head. Finally, I just slid my foot under the front wheel of the chair to make it stop moving. Maggie was laughing so hard I thought she would stop breathing. Once I got her butt into place I laughed with her, but for a minute there…