TMI

March 22. 2017

TMI

Even from me, Mr. Open and Honest,

there can be TMI.

This morning

I was heading to the toilet,

which is a big production.

On my bookshelf by my bed,

I noticed a urinal full of pee

still sitting there.

I said to Candice,

‘You should take a picture,

put it on the blog.”

Candice said,

“You want me to?”

I said, “no, TMI.”

Then Jackie and Candice

helped me stand up,

get to the walker,

and walk to the toilet.

As I stood up

the urge to go poop

overwhelmed me.

I pooped in my pants.

Jackie and Candice

didn’t know where to put me.

I ended up on the floor.

On the way

down to the floor

my right leg strained

but somehow I found myself

safely on my back.

In some ways

it felt good to lay down on the floor,

but I had no idea how I was going to get up.

Somehow Jackie and Candice

cleaned me up without making a mess on the carpet.

They made some phone calls

looking for a strong guy to help us.

Candice’s boyfriend, Tim, was on his way over.

Tim was able to lift me off the floor,

no problem,

up into the portable shower chair.

He carried me in the shower chair to the toilet.

He lifted me from the chair to the toilet.

He lifted me from the toilet to the shower.

He lifted from the shower back to the toilet.

And then back to the shower.

Jackie took over from there,

giving me my daily tooth brush, shave and shower.

*

The albatross of the day

is my new ventilator,

the machine that is supposed to help me breathe.

Yesterday, a nurse from Billings

came to help me.

I’ve had the machine for three weeks

and haven’t been able to use it.

With her help, I was able to use it

for fifteen minutes,

a small victory.

I’m supposed to use it eventually

all night long.

In the meantime, in order to get used to it,

I need to do it as long as I can during the day.

The machine blows air into my diaphragm

and helps stretch out my compromised lungs.

After the nurse left yesterday

I tried to use the machine five times.

I wasn’t able to use it for more than three minutes.

Today I needed to try again.

During my massage with Sara,

we tried again with Michelle helping.

I panicked immediately.

I had Michelle take the mask off.

There’s a lot of pressure on me

to succeed with this machine.

Jackie came into the room during my massage

to talk to me.

In tears she told me that the consequences

of me being unable to breathe better with the machine

is a tracheostomy, but more so

the family’s desire to have me stick around

for as long as possible.

I am losing my body,

my voice is weak,

my hands don’t work,

I can hardly lift my arms,

my legs are heavy.

I can still stand up,

I can still walk maybe ten yards,

who knows for how long.

I can’t imagine what it will be like

when I can no longer do anything physical.

I am still here,

I am Mark,

my brain has not changed.

I am who I am.

But, to live without a body…

*

Jackie tells me,

she compares my need to conquer the machine

to having contractions.

She tells me how much I helped her

during the birth of our three children.

She tells me my soothing voice

helped her achieve an out of body experience

during Micah’s birth.

Sara tells me I am a teacher.

Uses a tuning fork.

My massage ends.

It’s Jackie’s turn.

Michelle feeds me lunch.

Micah and I go for a walk in the neighborhood

with Tucker and Debbie who came to see me and have dinner.

No more TMI.