One evening I needed to drive a visitor, Kyle, home to a nearby city. After telling my husband to behave and not leap back and forth from wheelchair to bed, I left. Ten minutes later, an urgent text message from my son informed me my husband had taken a fall.
Dashing into the house, I found Terry sitting on the bed, seemingly okay. He's breathing. No blood. No broken bones.
"Are you okay?" I asked Terry.
Looking down and mumbling, he said something I couldn't understand, which was par for the course.
"Are you okay?" I asked again, this time louder.
"Yes," he said, a little agitated.
"What happened?"
"I fell off the bed."
"Did you hurt anything?"
"I hit my head," he said, somewhat angrily. He sat fiddling with the control on the wheelchair. "I can't get it to do anything!"
"What are you trying to get it to do?"
"It won't move!" he said, clearly frustrated.
"Honey, it's in the recline mode. It has to be in the drive mode to move."
I touched the button that changed the chair to drive mode and saw the setting was in P3 mode, a fast speed.
"Why did you have it so fast?" I asked him.
"I didn't. The chair did it on it's own."
"No, dear, the chair did not do it on it's own. You have to select P3 for it to be in the P3 mode."
"It did too. It did it on it's own and I hit my head," he said, adamant and somewhat pouty.
"Where'd you hit your head?"
"There!" he shouted with frustration, as he waved vaguely at the floor at the foot of the bed.
"What on earth were you doing there?" I asked. How he could have landed that far from where the wheelchair was positioned and where he sleeps in the bed was a mystery. But, my real concern was for his head.
"Where'd you hit it?"
"There!" he shouted again, flinging his arm wildly in the same general direction as before.
"No dear, where'd you hit your head? Did you get hurt?"
Still angry, he pointed to two positions on his head.
"Let me look," I demanded. With a more gentle voice, I said, "I need to see if you are injured." With that he instantly became like a little kid, calmed from the anger and all consumed with the details of his injuries. I inspected them and found no marks, bumps, or cuts. So far, so good.
"Okay, it looks alright. Stay here. I'll be right back."
I went to Andy and asked him what happened.
"He was on the floor," Andy said. "I don't know what happened."
I went back to Terry and began an interrogation.
"Tell me again what happened," I said.
"The wheelchair went beserk, going in circles," he said, instantly angry and frustrated.
"What? How did that happen?"
"The chair started by itself."
I smiled and chuckled. "Honey, the chair can't start by itself."
"Yes it can. It does it all the time."
"No, it can't. Let me show you. When you get out of the chair, you turn it off. Right?" I said as I flipped the small on/off switch. "Do you see, the chair can't move," I said, moving the main control.
"No, the chair moved," he insisted.
"Then you must not have turned it off."
"I always turn it off."
"No you don't. I have come in lots of times, found it on, and turned it off myself."
Terry looked down and a little glum. He had been shown the chair couldn't move when turned off. He appeared to be struggling to meld that fact with his belief that the chair moved on its own. The two ideas couldn't mutually be true.
Seeing that I wasn't getting answers that made sense, I said, "Alright, tell me again, what happened."
"The chair went crazy, started going in circles and wouldn't stop."
"How did that happen?"
"I was trying to... " at this point Terry seemed a little confused or distracted and couldn't really explain.
"I know what happened," I said. "You tend to flail... "
He interrupted, "I do not!"
I laughed. "You know you do. You flail about in bed and kick the covers. They got caught on the control. You pulled the covers and that tugged the control."
Terry argued the point about how the chair went by itself a few more times, reluctant to accept the evidence. Finally he said, "Alright, the covers got caught on the control and made the chair go in circles."
I sat there for a few seconds, letting the idea sink into his head. "How did you fall on the floor?"
Terry flung his arm to the side, indicating he fell off the side of the bed. "I hit my head!"
Trying to figure out exactly how he fell, I continued, "Yes, I know, but, did you roll off the side of the bed? Try to stand up? Were you transferring?"
"I didn't fall. I jumped out of bed," he said.
"What!? You jumped out of bed?" I said smiling and began chuckling.
"Yes," he said proudly, "I jumped out of bed."
"Why on earth would you jump out of bed?"
"Because the wheelchair was going crazy in circles, banging into everything."
"So it made sense to you to jump out of bed into the path of an out of control wheelchair, when you could have stayed in bed and been safe?"
"No place was safe from that wheelchair!" he said, confident that statement proved the evilness of the wheelchair, due to the shocked look on my face.
I dropped my head, silently shaking "no." Terry's illogic, although concerning, was too funny. The way the beds were situated, he must have fallen between the two halves.
There was no point in continuing the debate. Although Terry was still angry at the wheelchair, he was happy.
The following morning, I decided to ask Terry again what happened. I began by reinspecting his head and checking his body in the light of day to insure no damage went unnoticed. I needed to get to the bottom of what really happened. The conversation rehashed the previous evening's talk, with a little more information. He confirmed he had jumped or fallen between the two halves of the split-king bed.
"How did you end up at the end of the bed?"
"I crawled there."
"Why did you crawl there?"
"To get out of the way."
"You don't think you would have been safer to stay in bed?"
"No!" he exclaimed, and remembering how effective his statement had been the night before, added,"No place was safe from that chair!"
"Isn't that rather like Jaws and jumping into the water rather than staying on a boat?"
Terry paused and thought about that for a second, which I took as a good sign that he was a little more rational that morning. He started to argue the point, but instead began laughing. He could see the folly in his actions. Ultimately the incident showed that leaving him for short trips had become a greater risk.
"So it made sense to you to jump out of bed into the path of an out of control wheelchair, when you could have stayed in bed and been safe?"
"No place was safe from that wheelchair!" he said, confident that statement proved the evilness of the wheelchair, due to the shocked look on my face.
I dropped my head, silently shaking "no." Terry's illogic, although concerning, was too funny. The way the beds were situated, he must have fallen between the two halves.
The following morning, I decided to ask Terry again what happened. I began by reinspecting his head and checking his body in the light of day to insure no damage went unnoticed. I needed to get to the bottom of what really happened. The conversation rehashed the previous evening's talk, with a little more information. He confirmed he had jumped or fallen between the two halves of the split-king bed.
"How did you end up at the end of the bed?"
"I crawled there."
"Why did you crawl there?"
"To get out of the way."
"You don't think you would have been safer to stay in bed?"
"No!" he exclaimed, and remembering how effective his statement had been the night before, added,"No place was safe from that chair!"
"Isn't that rather like Jaws and jumping into the water rather than staying on a boat?"
Terry paused and thought about that for a second, which I took as a good sign that he was a little more rational that morning. He started to argue the point, but instead began laughing. He could see the folly in his actions. Ultimately the incident showed that leaving him for short trips had become a greater risk.
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