In the middle of the night I sat up and slid over on the bed to remove a pad that was all wrinkled up under me.  When I slid to the side, I lost my grip on the bed rail and fell backwards over the edge of the bed.
 
Being paralyzed from T4 on down means that I have no control over the majority of my upper body and while I tried and tried and tried to pick myself up and get back in bed, I couldn't do it. 
 
So there I was, lying (laying?) half-way out of bed, with the metal bed rail digging into my back right where the lesions are.  It hurt so badly I could barely breathe.  Luckily Dave had come home from work a couple of hours earlier and was asleep upstairs.  It took all of the energy I could muster, but I yelled as loud as I could and after a few minutes he heard me and came to help.
 
After he lifted me back into bed he held me for a while until I settled down and could relax a little.  It was so damn scary to not be able to help myself!  What would I have done if Dave had been at work?  He said, "Well, you would have had to call 911."
 
Well, I hate to tell him but when a person is half in and half out of bed, hanging off of one side, it's pretty darn difficult to reach the phone which is on the table on the opposite side of the bed from where I was.  If I could reach the phone, I could have sat up.   Oh Jeez DUH!
 
No, really, it was so scary.  I'm still upset and worried about the next time.  So far I've fallen over backwards in my wheelchair onto the cement driveway, and now out of bed.  I guess I can join the Klutz Klub with Grace and all that fall.
 
I know there's nothing any of you can do about it.  I just feel better sharing with some people who understand what I'm talking about.  Those who know how frightening something that looks so benign can be.
 
Peace, Light and Love
from
Jude (did I steal this from Bernie?)

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