Bipolar Me

Recently, I wrote a post on how I was trapped in my house because of a lack of transportation. It wasn’t just because it’s too people-y out there in the world, though I have to admit that may have been a factor. Other factors have been that I’ve been simply too comfortable in my study, which contains nearly everything I need for my psychological and physical needs. And the bathroom is nearby.

Then, too, I have physical limitations these days. I had my left knee replaced last year and tore a muscle in my thigh afterward. My right knee is still bone-on-bone, however, and needs to be replaced, too. I also broke my right foot in two places. I can’t climb stairs yet, so I have a ramp at the front door that I have to use a wheelchair for. And I’m living on the first floor of the house. Because of the wheelchair/ramp situation, I still need Dan’s help to get out of and into the house.

So, difficulties persist, but soon I will have options. I’m getting a new (to me) used car. It’s a cream-colored Mercury Milan with only 40,000 miles on it, and it’s just been to a mechanic to check its soundness.

Logistics Are Difficult

The major problem is that Dan and I have to fly to Florida to pick it up. Having it shipped 850 miles is just too expensive. So, we have to fly down and then drive the car back. We considered having Dan fly down and drive back alone, but he didn’t want to leave me on my own for three days in case I have an emergency, minor or major. (He also doesn’t want to drive back on his own, and wants me to help with the driving and keeping him awake.)

That means we have arrangements to make, which are complicated by my infirmities. Getting to the airport is something that everyone has to do—Lyft or Uber. I’ll ask for mobility assistance (wheelchair) at all the airports because, while I usually use a walker at home and am taking it with me, I don’t move very fast with it or stand in line for long.

One thing I’m afraid of is that, since we’re flying on a small jet, we may have to board it on the tarmac with a set of stairs rather than via a jetway from the terminal. There’s no way I can make it up a set of stairs with my walker. The airline says they don’t know how we’ll board until the day of. They also say that someone will help me, but they don’t say how.

I do have a special walker for use with stairs, but I haven’t been able to put it together yet. And it’s simply impractical to take a stair walker and a regular walker on the trip.

Psychological Effects

As you may have gathered, I’m having anxiety about the trip. This is not unusual for me. I often have travel anxiety. But the uncertainty of the airline arrangements is making it worse. Driving back is anxiety-producing as well. I haven’t driven in well over a year, especially not in a large car. Driving in the rain or at night is also nearly impossible for me. We plan to stop at a hotel on the way back, so maybe I won’t have to drive at night.

I also have plenty of anxiety about how I will use the car once we get it home. Say I go out to lunch with a friend. I haven’t been brave enough to walk down the ramp with my walker. That means I’ll have to return the ramp and learn to use the stair walker, but carry my regular walker with me. Or maybe I’ll be able to use a cane by then. I’ll have to call my ortho and ask.

Anyway, getting a car of my own at last is a good thing, but everything that goes with it is confusing and anxiety-producing. Getting it will mean facing some of my fears and developing workarounds. Using it once it’s here will require some more.

All in all, though, I count this development as a plus and offer many, many thanks to my mother-in-law, who is making this all possible.