The New Toy


Yesterday, I bought a disability scooter. I’m not going to reveal its name, because it won’t be delivered till tomorrow, and I won’t endorse anything I haven’t lived with for a while.

Suffice it to say it was expensive, but not too expensive, and that it was, and will be, blue. I could have had any colour, as long as it was blue or red! Being told this was heaven – less choice, less stress.

It is part of my new determination to carve out a new identity for myself, now that my left leg is, temporarily I hope, completely useless. Since being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, my left leg has been my bete noire, my fifth column, my mad woman in the attic. It could never be completely trusted.

But it muddled through, In a thoroughly English kind of way, like the Civil Service during the spying days of Philby and Maclean. It generally knew what was expected of it, and then morosely did it.

But now the tyrant has been o’erthrown, the left leg has declared unilateral independence from my brain. Its desire to do what it wants when it wants, while understandable at a micro level, is totally incompatible with the macro picture . . . the convention of all the bits of my body working as one, each to the best of its ability.

The convention had worked well for years, hadn’t it? Why throw it all away now, just when I need it?

A disability scooter is just a substitute for a new trike!

A disability scooter is just a substitute for a new trike!

So, from tomorrow, I will be seen sitting astride my blue monster. When I tried it in the showroom, Elisabeth said I looked just like myself in an old photo . . . a child with my new tricycle.

But now I need to come to some sort of accommodation with this new me.

My inner map of where we liv has got to be re-drawn. It will need to include dropped kerbs, accessible shops, and all that kind of stuff.

The woods will be out of bounds . . . and I will mourn the loss of them . . . but there is a nature reserve nearby, with accessible paths, so I’ll take Ruby there. I’m a bit scared of going along the road to get there, but this fear must be faced.

I must become a fearless warrior, a Don Quixote on my decrepit blue pony, and I must tilt at windmills.



About stevehobsonauthor

I am blind, and I hate it. It stinks. But life is still sweet. I have multiple sclerosis, and that stinks too, but life is still sweet. These are my musings.
This entry was posted in Age, Disability and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The New Toy

  1. stephen says:

    scooter or power chair. issues i never thought i’d have to deal with. kicking the can, metaphorically speaking, down the road on that one.


    • Decided to get a scooter. I went out on it today for the first time. First time in the sun for weeks. I’ll review it later. First time out has taught me to be prepared for a steep learning curve and a lot of frustration.


  2. Glad to hear you have an accessible option for the nature reserve. I was just thinking of the one near our house which I thought was pretty rare. There’s even a system of plant identifiers that will describe various desert plants for you at the push of a button.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s