Flying Porta-Potties

Today, I almost got killed by a flying Porta-Potty. Driving home from my mom’s on I-90 towards Albany, as I exited onto the ramp for 787 rounding the curve, I couldn’t believe my eyes, a flying pink Porta-Potty coming right for me.

pink porta-potty

The car ahead somehow managed to swerve around the portable toilet. While the milk truck directly in front of me nearly jack-knifed, and wound up stopping across 2 lanes of the highway; I managed to steer to the right, avoiding smashing into the side of the truck. Unfortunately, that was the same direction of the Porta-Potties flight, coming right for me.

Luckily it stopped inches before taking me out, and luckily no-one rear ended me or the milk truck, as we waited for the driver to rescue his escaped John.

Over the years, I have spent a lot of time worrying about a lot of things. Such as will we have enough food for our BBQ. And then we have enough leftovers for ten marching bands.

On our vacations in Aruba, I worry about becoming a beached whale again, as I struggle to emerge from the sea. Having CMT makes that step up onto the sand at the same time that the tide is pulling me backwards pretty tricky. But these past few years our Aruba friends have come to my rescue, and help my husband drag me safely ashore.

Sometimes I worry I may wind up in a wheel chair some day. And after seeing how difficult this is for my step-father, it concerns me quite a bit. So, I am determined to keep exercising to maintain whatever strength I have left.

Besides, throughout my life I have found that I’ve wasted way too much time worrying about a lot of things that never happen. Now it seems that what I should have been worrying about, is getting done in by a flying Porta-Potty.

This entry was posted in Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease, CMT, flying Porta-Potty, Health CMT, neuromuscular disease, peripheral neuropathy, personal stories and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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