Nope, we've gone over that before. He won't use one. Nope. Never. 'Nuff said.

He just needs to stop putting unequal pressure on chairs, etc. so they tip over.

He would have been okay the other night eventually (or so he assures me). If I hadn't heard and come down to help, he would have made his way over to the couch and pulled himself up. But it was dark and he couldn't see well. And getting back into the wheelchair was easier. I'm glad I heard, but it's nervewracking. I'm constantly listening, even on a subconscious level, and interpreting any sounds because Tom can't call out for help. I'm sure I annoy him, coming halfway down the stairs to ask if he's okay. But that one time out of twenty (or whatever) that he needs help means I'm doing the right thing. But it's tiring and means I really can never truly relax.

It's getting better all the time. And he's actually, what with all the therapy AND the dragging himself around with his upper body, in a lot better physical shape than he's been in years.

I just wish he had come with some kind of warranty...

Linn