Getting around (part 2)

Putting one foot in front of the other and walking happened when I was fourteen, but it was a long process and there were many other smaller steps leading to that moment. The basic physiotherapy started when I was seven months old, working to roll over and crawl. In preschool, I spent time with a physiotherapist who encouraged me to walk forwards and sideways while holding onto a chair. I also practised going around corners by holding onto a board while walking. I wasn't able to stay standing on my own, so for any activity where I needed to stand up, like painting at an easel, I was strapped to a stand. It was fun to be on my own standing up to do my work. I couldn't have done this without my physiotherapist and I want to thank her for everything that she did for me in those twelve years of school. She would see me at the beginning of every school year, and lay out a program for me to follow.  She also made sure I had the right equipment to make day-to-day living as easy as possible.

In elementary school, Ruth was my physiotherapist. One time, she visited my house to help me test out a new manual wheelchair. I started going upstairs on my butt and Ruth asked where I was going. I said I was going to the washroom, but Ruth didn’t believe I could do it by myself. My sisters were home at the time, so Charmaine said, "Shawna has been going to the bathroom all by herself since she was a little girl.  She's okay, she won't fall in". I chimed in, "If you really want to come and watch me use the bathroom, you can come along".  Ruth looked at me very seriously and said she would be right outside if I needed help. I knew she was concerned because, at school, an aide has to help me with a bathroom setup that's different from the one at home; Ruth always worried that I would fall down.  She waited outside the entire time I was in the bathroom in case I cried for help.  When I opened the door, she couldn't believe I was independent enough at eight years not to need assistance in the washroom.

Here is Ruth's account of what happened, in her own words: "I had over the years taken to videoing her amazing accomplishments, however, on this day I was held mute by my hands over my mouth and my feet frozen to the floor... a true rabbit in the headlights. As she weaved and bobbed, always just missing a major fall or bump, I had the sense that not to control my urges to intervene would be to minimize Shawna. From her knees to standing, to completing the manoeuvre on the toilet, overcoming a multitude of desynchronized muscles pulling on her limbs and body, she looked at me with challenge in her eyes as if to say, "Would you now dare to say that I am not safe in the bathroom by myself?" "Ah, for once, a mute professional, trained in understanding human body mechanics and movement."

I was always surprising Ruth and it was hilarious to see her panicked reaction to my latest feat.  I liked doing more than she expected, even if it scared her sometimes.  We always argued over movements. I wanted to do it my way and she kept encouraging me to try it her way.  Sometimes my way worked better for me, sometimes her way did.