Legs are a thing of the past. Who needs them when you have wheels!
Visiting the clinic last week gave me a shock. I knew that breaks to bones normally take about 6 weeks to repair and I had prepared myself mentally for that. The one time that I try to think positive, it goes against me. Having to pick up my jaw from the floor and wipe the tears away, I was in a state of shock when the doctor kindly informed me, in a very matter of fact way' that it would be three months until I could full weight bear on my foot because it was a little more complex than just a break. He then let me go, all this time on crutches without a hint of help or advice for how the hell was I going to manage.
I knew that I could not travel very far on my crutches (hell, I can barely mange to answer the door). I bravely managed a trip, in the car to our local farm shop the other week and decided it was a bad idea. Buying every item of meat that she possibly could, the woman in front of me in the queue did not seem to appreciate the fact that if I had to stand there much longer, she would also be purchasing a ' Wendy chop' as it was evident that I would probably be taking a head dive into the meat counter.
Arriving home, crying yet again, we came up with a plan. I could not bear not being able to go anywhere so we made the purchase; a wheelchair. Ignorance had led me to believe that a wheelchair was just a wheelchair. No. There are so many types made from different materials with hundreds of add-ons. As it happens, the one I needed was not a simple one, it needed a leg raise.
Anyway, it arrived on next day delivery and where was I? Yes, you've guessed it, sat on the bucket. (I was not in possession of the commode at the point) Shouting at the top of my voice, 'hang on,' whilst I finished what I was doing, never have I got up so fast. I shot to the door like a bat out of hell. All the time, in my head I could hear my ranting voice on the phone to Royal Mail if the postie left without me getting to the door in time. Thankfully, the box had 'wheelchair', in very large letters on the box, so I think he might have got the point. Excitedly, I opened the side of the box. Could I get it out? Course not. For some reason, although it was my hands that were doing the work, I seemed incapable of doing this whilst stood on 1 leg. Thankfully, Janey was coming round so was able to help me. She seemed nearly as excited as me.
Feeling like a prisoner on day release, I brushed my hair, put a bit of make up on and demanded a trip out to Asda when Nick came home.(because when you have hardly left the house, that is the first place any normal person wants to go isn't it?) Wheeling in, I felt very small as the shelves seemed to tower above me. We had to go in the lift downstairs so not really thinking, I drove straight in only to come face to face with the mirror on the back wall. Not being able to turn round, I had to stare at myself as we went to the bottom floor. God, that was depressing!
When we got there, Nick thought it might be a good idea to let me look round by myself so he could go off and do the 'serious' shopping. (Personally, I think he was a bit worried about how I could embarrass him, not due to being in a wheelchair but due to ME being in the wheelchair!) Anyway, I had a look round and gave up after a while. All I wanted was to find a pair of pyjamas. This seemed impossible. I could not reach the high racks properly so drove my wheelchair into the rack beneath and ended up with lots of pyjamas balancing on my head, falling off and making me look like someone who has just gone in to trash the place. To follow that, I then could not find Nick. We have a habit of loosing each other in Asda but this seemed even worse because of the amount of effort it was taking to wheel myself round. My trip to Costco produced similar results. A lot of the things were too high for me to even see, let alone reach. The woman on the perfume counter obviously thought 'wheelchair equals learning difficulties.' She spoke to me very slowly and quite loud, I though it was just me being sensitive but Nick noticed this as well.
Although each experience is vaguely amusing for me, it certainly gives you food for thought about how permanently immobile people manage and what they have to put up with. I found that people would quickly move out of your way but would not look you in the face. Very strange.
On a lighter note, this has given many of our friends opportunity to make lots of Little Britain references, calling us Andy and Lou. I might be in a wheelchair, be round, wear glasses and Nick has long hair but I am sure that the likeness stops there. Even if I could, I couldn't be bothered to run around every time that poor Nick's back was turned. Besides, I am too fussy to quickly make up my mind and say, ' I want that one!'
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