For Love of a Chair

I love my recliner.  Many, many years ago, my mother got a bee in her bonnet that I needed a new recliner and she wanted to buy one for me for my birthday.  I was perfectly happy with the recliner I'd been sitting in, but she was adamant.

We went to Lazy Boy in San Rafael (where she then lived) and the sales clerk led me to a chair and asked me to try it out.  I didn't want to get out.  It was like sinking into a cloud.  It didn't rock, like my old one did, but I easily gave up the rocking function for the comfort.

It wasn't as simple as buying the chair and having it delivered.  We learned that each Lazy Boy store is its own franchise and the San Rafael store had no connection to the Sacramento store, but we decided to buy the chair anyway and have it delivered to my mother's and we would figure out how to get it to Davis.

Which turned out to be a major problem since we didn't have a big vehicle nor did our kids, I don't think, have access to one at that time.  But Peach and her husband had a brand new big truck and they volunteered to bring the chair to Davis for me, which turned out to be a more difficult proposition than they imagined since it didn't quite fit in their truck, but somehow they made it fit.

And so the big comfy chair took up residence in our family room and bonded with my butt and they both lived happily ever after...until recently.

After this "whatever it is" (my technical name for my weird condition) started to manifest itself, it became increasingly difficult to get out of the chair and takes several tries before my knees decide to reluctantly support my weight.  Ned said I needed a lift chair, but I knew how expensive they are.

When we went to Santa Barbara, my brother-in-law, Joe, graciously gave up his recliner (a lift chair that once belonged to Walt's mother) and it was absolutely wonderful.

Walt decided that we would come home and shop for one for me.

Enter our friend Pat, who had a lift chair that her husband wasn't using and offered it to me.  Ned and his friend Greg (and Greg's son Logan) got a truck and went to Pat & Bud's to get the chair.

What a difference!

(Walt said we'd have to be sure to keep Polly off the chair.
Somehow I don't think that will be a problem!)

The only problem with it is that it makes standing up so effortless that I forget I can't stand up unaided without it.  Last night I made the mistake of sitting in Walt's recliner, which I used to do when taking a break from doing something in the kitchen, and forgot I can't get out of it at all.  I had to call Walt to come and get me up.

There is also the "breaking in" period of learning how to "drive it" to best advantage, but once I got comfortable last night, I slept very well.

I realize that the diagnosis of this "whatever it is" is still pretty new, but I'm starting to have fears about what if this is my "new normal" condition and I'll never get the strength back into my body again....