That's our family room in the picture.
That's Carrie - hanging from the ceiling. And nope, that isn't a trapeze she's
hanging from. There's an electric winch attached to the ceiling, and
Carrie (in an upper body harness) is hanging from the winch.
Paula lost the ability to stand on her own sometime around 1998. From then
on, she needed help to transfer in and out of her wheelchair.
Paula would wake at 7 in the morning and someone had to move her from bed
to her wheelchair. After Paula wheeled to the bathroom, someone
had to lift her up, pull down her clothing, and transfer her
to the toilet.
I kept threatening to put a padded seat on the toilet so Paula could just
stay there all day, but Paula always thought I was joking. So
someone had to lift Paula up off the toilet, pull up her clothes,
and then put her back into the wheelchair.
After brushing her teeth and eating breakfast, Paula would wheel over to
her armchair and someone would have to lift her up and put her
into her arm chair.
When you add in a lunchtime trip to
the bathroom before going to bed for her nap, a repeat of the
morning routine after her nap, a trip or two to the bathroom
before bedtime, and a final trip to bed, Paula was lifted at
least 14 times a day. On days when we gave her a shower or she
had to make extra trips to the bathroom, she might be lifted
as many as 20 times a day. If Paula weighed 165 pounds, that's
moving between 2,300 and 3,300 pounds a day.
While Chris, Brian, Sarah, Carrie and I have all grown accustomed to moving
Paula around (think of it as weight lifting with a very flexible
weight), other folks (including some of the home health care
workers who sometimes helped out) had problems moving Paula.
And on those occasions when I hurt my back moving Paula, it
was very painful for me to continue moving her until I healed.
So I came up with the idea of hanging a winch over Paula's chair, making
an upper-body harness, and using the winch to lift and lower
her. I bought the winches and Paula's sister Amy came over to
do the sewing on the harness. It took a while, but we finally
got a harness that worked.
Put yourself in Paula's shoes for a moment. You're in a family that has
strapped a life jacket on you, stood you up on a dock, and lot
you PLOP into a lake. Your family has put you in a wheelchair
and carried you up, over, and through the obstacles on a miniature
golf course. They regularly make your wheelchair pop wheelies
while you're in it. And now they want to hang you from the ceiling
in a home-made harness attached to a winch contraption that looks
like it was made by Rube Goldberg on
a bad day.
So Chris came up with the idea of letting Paula operate the contraption
while someone else was in the harness. He felt that it was only
fair to let Paula do onto others as we were going to do onto
her.
So she sat in her wheelchair and pushed the control buttons to raise and
lower the harness as the kids took turns swinging from the ceiling.
And swing they did, with Paula laughing and having a grand old
time. And, of course, the kids were laughing and having a grand
old time as Paula pushed the button to lift them high into the
air. Who would have thought that Paula would have become a pusher
helping our kids get high?
You'll notice that in this picture, Chris' feet are no where near the ground.
That's because he's using the lift as a swing. Kids will be kids.
I'd like to thank my "soccer buddies" for a gift at Christmas of 2002 made
all this fun possible.
When Paula died, we were just about to
make a final version of the harness and install additional
winches above her bed, above the toilet, and in the shower.
With all the winches in place, even the most petite home health care worker
would have been able to help Paula through her entire daily routine.
I don't know that Paula would have ever been swinging around like the kids,
but she sure like the fact that the winch contraption would keep
us from hurting our backs as we moved her from bed to bathroom
and then to her easy chair.