You know what I really hate about being paralyzed? I mean, hate with every bone in my broken body? You have to be so bleeding responsible — all the time.
You have to be at all times cautious, careful, prudent, always erring on the safe side, and for goodness sakes, don’t forget to take your meds or practice perfect hygiene. You have to script out your every movement in advance. “OK, how am I going to get from this chair to that toilet seat five feet away without slipping, falling, or rubbing too hard against the seat surface and causing a skin breakage?” You know what I’m talking about. In fact, it happened to me just last week. A wound on my hip that took two years and plastic surgery to heal became magically unhealed last week because I had the audacity to hit the toilet seat at an angle and not straight down, helicopter-style. What an idiot! How irresponsible can you get? Buy a lift harness, for God’s sake, so you can make a gentle four-point landing on that seat. Don’t you know anything?
Want to just throw caution to the wind and go on a road trip to Vegas or the Indian casino in your area? Sure, but first, get out a calculator and measure exactly how long you can sit in a car without passing out and call the motel and book their only accessible room two months in advance and oh yeah, forget about having more than one drink at the roulette table or you will suddenly lose you