All Posts Tagged ‘Paralysis



1 comment

Are you good at what you do? What would you like to be better at?

Yesterday I couldn’t participate in the daily prompt because I was at the physiotherapist, learning how to handle my mom, who is paralytic, without hurting her, and how to do some exercises to mobilise her limbs at home to avoid stiffening and deformities in her joints. I practised under the attentive eyes of the physiotherapist, a nice young woman, very strong, called Virginia. Everything she was doing seemed easy, but when was my turn, I found it difficult and physically hard. I’m used to move her from the bed to the wheelchair and so on. Now we have to do some gymnastics. The paralysed limbs are extremely heavy to mobilise them. The hands are lighter but more complicated. You have to work the wrist and then go finger by finger. I found particularly difficult the exercise to mobilise her shoulder, moving her arm in circular motions. I was afraid of hurting her. I certainly had not confidence in me. Virginia reassured me. She told me I was doing fine. Mom withstood everything without a complaint. But she is my mom and she thinks everything I do is good. I’m not so sure.

So here am I, learning a new thing and a delicate one, with unsure steps, but determined to do it because I want the best quality of life for my mom in her situation.

I Have Confidence in Me.



Over my dead body

by chelle

by chelle

If you were forced to give up one sense, but gain super-sensitivity in another, which senses would you choose?

I wake up. I can hear the sounds around me. I try to open my eyes but I can’t. I try to move my hand to stop the alarm, but my arm doesn’t move. It’s like a sand bag attached to my body. I try to call for help but my mouth doesn’t obey me. I want to cry but I can’t. I’m gasping for breath by my lungs are working desperately slow. I’m unable to see, to talk, to smell, to touch anything. I can only hear everything: The alarm, the sounds in the room and outside the room.

I can do nothing but hope somebody will notice my helpless situation and come to me. I’m drowning in my anguish. Terrified. I think I’m paralysed. So soon. I began to pray. Dear God, help me. Send someone to help me. I feel I can die in a few moments or worst, stay this way for ever. Absolutely helpless. Completely depending on others for everything. I don’t know for how long I’m praying like this. I fall asleep.

Suddenly I wake up again. But this time, everything is OK. I can move without problem. I open my eyes. I can see. I jump from the bed. My body obeys me. My voice is as loud as ever. I don’t understand. That wasn’t a nightmare. It was something more. But I’m so happy to have again control over all my senses I really don’t care.. until happens again.

Doctors said it’s sleep paralysis syndrome. Nothing serious, but really scary. It gives you a glimpse of what can experience a person with real paralysis. It lasts for only a few seconds but it seems like hours and you can’t get used to it.

Having experienced this I can’t choose a sense to give up and a sense gain super-sensitivity.  Neither after years taking care of my loved ones loosing sensibilities, witnessing their suffering. It’s too much.

There is nothing I would give up. There’s no sense I want to have super-powered. I love what I have. Force me to give up one of my senses? Over my dead body. No matter what the prize is. Gain super-sensitivity in one of my senses? No, thank you. I’m glad with what I have. I thank God every day, every night, for that.

Daily Prompt: Super Sensitive | The Daily Post.

More posts by sensitive bloggers in the next page:




file0001229516358You experience your own Freaky Friday, and switch bodies with someone you love/hate. Tell us what happens.

I’m laying in bed unable to move. I would like to because I can’t resist any more my back ache from being too much time in the same position. My limbs don’t obey my brain. They are like sand bags attached to my body. I need help. But I don’t want to wake up Mom or anybody in the house. I try to resist. I’m anxious. Why can’t I move? This is a nightmare. I can see everything around me. I can feel everything, but I can’t move an inch. And this pain is killing me. I get anxious. I’m sweating.

– Somebody, help me!. Help, please!


– I need help!, please, help!

I hear noises. somebody is approaching. I can’t see who is coming because I can’t turn myself to face the door. I hear steps entering the room. Somebody touches my arm gently.

– I’m here.

She walks around the bed and stays in front of me. She looks a lot like mom. She looks tired and sleepy. I feel sorry for her and guilty.

– I’m sorry, but…

– Don’t be. I’ll help you.

She seems to know what I need although I don’t understand. She pushes my upper body and pulls the sheets to make me turn to the other side. That hurts. Then she arranges my legs and finally covers me and kisses me. When she finishes I feel relieved.

– Thank you. what time is it?

– Three

– Oh my God! Go to bed. You have to rest.

– No. YOU have to rest. Call me if you need me.

I don’t understand. My head is working as fast as ever. I know what’s coming after this if I’m not in a nightmare.  I’ll have to wait for someone to come to me to wash me, to clean me. I’ll be so ashamed. I’ll need help to eat, to sit in the wheelchair, to go to bed, to read to…everything.

I’m now facing the door, and while I watch mom exiting the room, tears are filling my eyes. I cry silently. I don’t want her to know I’m crying. She is so brave in her situation. I need her courage, but I don’t have it. I’m alone again. Please, dear God help my mom, help me. I feel the pillow moist with my tears. I’m falling asleep. Please, dear God…

via Daily Prompt: Freaky Friday.

More Freaky Fridays in the next page: