Truckin' on

I'm going to have to grudgingly admit after that all these years of  doing my best to avoid using the infernal machine, aka, the wheelchair, I'm just going to have to bite the bullet and just do it.

I have bits and pieces that refuse to work, or work as they should, and I think it's been long enough now that  I've realised they just aren't going to, and I'm stuck with it. Not that there's much wrong with them. It's bits of the control centre that are jiggered. I've learned to have an enormous respect for the human brain - and mind - and it's ability to rewire and rediscover itself. That takes time, and a very long time.

But there's only so much it can do, and either it's plateaued, or done what it can, and I guess it's time for me to accept that for the time being

In many ways it's a good decision. It's very important for my self respect and confidence to regain much of the independence I've lost over the years.

There are some down sides that are mainly functional. By taking back my independence it's going to worry the heck out of those who have cared for me.

My right hand side is a bit of a problem. It's much weaker than the left, and there's the very real risk of going around in circles. Sure, I can get someone to push me, which around here would be useful as I'm surrounded by steep hills. But being propelled around defeats the object - independence, right?

And it's back to relearning how to negotiate kerbs and uneven pavements. Outside of supermarkets, and most modern or modernised buildings, the ground is rarely even. On a couple of famous occasions I've hit an uneven patch and found myself launched into the road into traffic, and needed to be helped back in. And don't get me started on stairs and public transport....

So the constant place and traffic awareness is going to be a challenge, but I'm up for it.

The general public? Entirely positive I've found. Helpful, courteous and accommodating.  To be honest, as a wheelchair user, you learn an entirely new etiquette. People really do want to be helpful, and want to help even if you don't need it. You somehow feel churlish refusing a heartfelt  and genuine offer of help. I've only refused on a couple of occasions, and instantly regretted it when I've seen the hurt in their eyes.

Teenagers are the best. Whatever the reason, they cheerfully breeze in, and just do their thing, unasked and without asking. They're marvellous.

A possible solution is something like the Luggie motorised 'scooter'. I wouldn't have to depend on others, and hills would be a doddle. The downside is the eye watering cost. £2,495 if I want armrests? Good grief.

Tell you what, poor Bear went saucer eyed and her bottom lip stuck out when she saw that price.

That, by the way, is a good price. Not at all unusual.

Is personal independence worth at least two and a half grand? When you've lost it, Oh, yeah. Yes indeed.

In case you are wondering, I'm on lower rate Mobility, (about £17.50 a week)  because the Department of Work and Pensions in their wisdom decided that since I don't get out much, I didn't need Higher rate. You couldn't make it up. If I had that, I'd be able to get one under the Motability scheme for around £49 per month - payable forever.

May I please refer you to an excellent blog post by Sue Marsh, What DLA means to me, where she sums it up beautifully. The comments are also well worth a read.