There were times in my life I described myself as impulsive. Those times are over. I suppose in the grand scheme of things that I have lost over the last 18 years, losing my impulsivity wasn't too traumatizing, but when I really think about the impact of this loss, on both myself and on the people around me, it becomes just one more thing in a series of things that makes me want to stick my head in a blender (I used to say that all the time when I was teaching: "I'm sorry I cannot focus on your question kiddo, there is so much background noise right now it feels as if my head is in a blender" or, if the class was particularly annoying I might say, "guys, if you cannot follow directions I am going to stick my head in a blender"). But yes, at times the loss of my ability to be spur of the moment does indeed make me want to stick my head in a blender.
Some cases in point: the weekends. The weekends are my time to spend with Kelly. Depending on her work schedule, we spend about 2 1/2 days together a week. However, also depending on her work schedule, she has three days to get her own stuff done. (Someone recently referred to this notion of "getting stuff done" as adulting, doing things that no one particularly wants to do but that all adults need to do – laundry, dishes, yard work, errands, etc.) in a normal relationship, partners can adult whenever they want: perhaps together, perhaps while the other partner is sleeping or otherwise engaged, or maybe they do their adulting simultaneously and separately. Regardless, when Kelly does her weekly adulting, which, because of her schedule, needs to happen over the weekends, what does she do with me? Does she do it while I am getting ready on Friday morning? Does she adult with me and have to worry about locking down my chair in between errands? Does she leave me attached to my computer in the comfortable chair in the corner of her living room while she adults? All of those scenarios have happened and they all have worked out perfectly well, but they all – every one of those scenarios – require planning.
Ages ago, before Izzy became an aggressive dog, I took her to the Baltimore dog park on afternoons after school. There, as she ran around getting her energy out, I would chat with other dog park regulars. One afternoon I was griping about having to go to the grocery store after the gym, and one of my dog-owning friends remarked, "that sucks, so you have to get your wheelchair out and put it together just go in for eggs and milk?" I replied in the affirmative and was amused by her response, "man, that's got to be even worse than carting a toddler around!" Although that scenario is no longer relevant because I can neither drive myself to the grocery store nor assemble (or use) a manual wheelchair, drawing an analogy between my disease and an unruly toddler seems somewhat apropos. I am a hindrance to adult with, and a responsibility to adult without. Just as you cannot leave the toddler at home unattended, I am a potential hazard when left alone. I can assure you I will not "get into" anything or stick my hand in the wood stove, but my proclivity to find myself in a pickle is almost without limit. At the very least, I need reliable access to my cell phone before conducting myself independently for more than 15 minutes.
Understandably having an in-depth plan for the weekend's adulting, let alone a minute-by-minute schedule for Friday through Sunday, is not always at the forefront of Kelly's mind at the conclusion of a 50-hour workweek. And I do not feel like badgering my already badgered girlfriend, but unfortunately, even without adulting, my life requires a lot of advanced planning: how long should my caregiver stay on Friday afternoons? Will I need my mom's help at any point or can she make plans? Do I need my college students to work over the weekend? Should we have a college girl come to Kelly's house on Friday or Saturday to help me with my nightly duties? If so, what time will we be home from whatever it is we decide to do? What about my dog? Will we have time to take her for a walk or play ball with her? What time should I be home on Sunday?
And don't even get me started on the holidays when my college girls are out-of-town for six weeks. Over the holidays I need to call in reserve caregivers so I need to know what days I will be at Kelly's and what days I will be at home needing someone to get me out of bed. This is a reality I could do without, but it exists nonetheless. As a consequence, I am micro-managerial to the extreme; a characteristic that I am well aware is excessively annoying. When one creates a dating profile for an online dating site, one will never list "micro-managerial" or "controlling" under the adjectives that describe me section.