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The Photographer

I’m starting to get, or let’s say I’m getting the urge to go out shooting again and putting my gear together again. At first I was looking again at my lightest camera, the Ricoh GRII but I spent the last few days searching from the wheelchair for the battery charger.

Boy there’s a lot of places it could be.

And honestly you can get a new one for about $50.

But then I went back to the Panasonic Lumix GH3 which I have two very nice lenses for. And let’s face it, over the years I’ve had more “keepers” with this thing which if I remember, I bought from Matt years ago.

It also has the fold out screen which is going to be very useful shooting from the wheelchair.

I even had a title running through my head lately, Photographs from A Wheelchair.

That makes it sound like a depressing book of wheelchair bound disabled people but not what I have in mind at all. The first thing you’ve got to realize is that the wheelchair can assume a myriad of positions. Some of them downright scary, where you are essentially tilted over parallel to the ground.

And fairly high up as well.

It can go pretty fast, to catch up with people. Faster than most people walk, even in NYC.

And this is just me thinking about it, without actually testing it out.

Also, you have the advantage of being in a wheelchair. That is major. You fall into the not-threatening camp. I’d better shave before my first adventure and find my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt.

I dislike the neck strap that Matt put on the the camera. It takes the weight off your neck and puts it somewhere else. I think I’ll remove it and put a light cannon strap on it.

In other Castle News – the beat goes on. I told them that I wanted two PT sessions per week, at least in the beginning. I have 3 next week. This is after a knee buckling fall last week.

I try to tell them that I’ve been in and out of PT and OT and have been fighting this underlying condition that has nothing to do with the strokes, but that goes in one ear and out the other.

We’ll see. If nothing else, the IVIG will stabilize me so I don’t get worse. Whether it will keep the PT results from disappearing remains to be seen. Most literature says that it is not going to repair very much but can definitely stop the deterioration of the sheath that covers the nerves.

Even that is good enough for me. But maybe it can keep some of the progress from the exercises…

Remains to be seen.

I was asleep at 10 pm last night when the door opens, and a blue coat says she’s in to take the garbage. Maybe one paper plate in the bin.

Then she goes on to ask me if I’m alright.

I’m asleep, says I.

Where they manage to get these morons from, I don’t know.

Earlier in the day,another blue coat comes in and asks if I’m going to lunch.

I turn around to look at her.

I haven’t eaten in the dining room in over six months. Why would they tell you to ask me today?

I recognize her, and she says she’s never been on this floor before. Oh, it’s not you, I say. But they asked you to check me from the upstairs?

Yes, she says. See if 410 is coming to lunch.

So I tell her nicely, I have lots of food etc. etc.

I tell her to open the fridge.

She opens her eyes wide – oh, she says. You’ve got good stuff in there. And she starts looking around and sees the Trader Joes peanut cups on the fridge.

Take one, I insist. They’re delicious.

And she does.

And it seems as if her gait changes to something lilty as she leaves and I hear her say “mmmm…” on her way out the door.

I’ve been using the treats that Matt and Barb bring to make friends with the blue coats and even going back to my days – one month of intensive rehab at Sinai – bookended by a week on each side of infusions.

All of that intensive rehab is now gone.

I was able to walk, at one point, with a walker, roughly 150 feet.

Gone.

Many other improvements – gone.

The one constant that never changed during the month of 5 hours of rehab per day, was the height that I could stand up from. It was always between 23 and 25 inches. I doubt that will ever change.

By Dave

My name is David Beckerman. I am a fine art photographer working in New York City. Or I was before I had two strokes. I now write from Assisted Living.