I returned home confined to a wheel chair. I hated that thing and on numerous days, I wished I had the strength to chuck it through one of the big picture windows that surrounded my living room. I fantasized about it rolling down the hill, into the ravine, buried deep in the woods, never to be seen again.
I hated being dependent on people. I was very thankful that my mother had come to live with us, devoting all of her time and attention to tending to my needs and caring for my family. But, I longed for my independence and to be a part of the daily routines of my four active children.
I hated the fact that I was always fatigued. I hated the boredom that resulted as I was confined to either my bed or that damn chair.
I hated how long it took to do basic things . . .