Getting around (part 3)

Depending on the school activities, I would bring either my wheelchair or my walker. Wheelchairs were great for days where there was lots of sitting around, and it was nice to have a comfortable seat. I usually brought the walker with me for physical education or outside activities when I needed to move around a lot and be on my feet, such as when our class went to the skating rink. I wore my skates like everyone else but had my walker with me on the ice.  I wasn't the smoothest skater because the walker boxed in my movements, so I relied on short glides. 

Classmates always asked to try out my walker or wheelchair.  They would tell me how lucky I am to have a wheelchair but they could not understand how difficult it actually was. I usually said no but it depended on who was asking.  I could also use my walker at home and play outside with the neighbourhood kids.

Walkers were part of my life since I was a year or two old.  It was like an infant walker with wheels attached to the base so it would move with me.  One summer evening when I was eleven, I asked my mom if I could go and play outside in my walker.  She agreed but reminded me not to go far.  There was a little path near our house and I went down there.  I was wearing slippers on my feet and one fell off when I was out of sight of my house.  I struggled to get that slipper back on for so long that my dad had to come look for me. I was in big trouble for straying further than they wanted.

The last walker I ever used had two bars that strapped to my arms.  I received it while we were at our cabin and during the first week of using it, I was practising walking around the house. There was a hallway with a sharp corner and I couldn't slow down when I was turning.  I fell down and cracked the back of my head, getting a nosebleed.  I laughed and cried while mom freaked out and declared, "No more, I hate that walker!” I never used the walker again after that.

Sometimes, my family didn't have confidence in my ability to do an activity, but I usually proved them wrong.  One day we went out to a friend's cabin and dad took my sisters to hit some golf balls.  He agreed when I asked if I could come along.  However, he was surprised when I asked if I could hit golf balls too.  He said I couldn't, explaining that it would be too difficult to stand up and swing the golf club.  Much to his surprise, I managed to stand up, and with a huge grin on my face, I whacked that golf ball!  The ball only went a meter or two but hey, it was my first time.

There was another event that caught my parents by surprise.  When I was growing up I had to share a bunk bed with my twin, Susan.  She always slept in the top bunk until I decided it was my turn.  Without anyone aware, I sneakily crawled up the stairs into our bedroom to climb up to the top bunk.  I lost my footing while going up the bunk bed ladder and hung by my fingertips until my parents came to investigate my cries for help!  It must have been such a scare for my parents but I didn't bother apologizing; I just kept advocating my skill and right to be in the top bunk. Still, they didn't let me sleep in the top bunk (Susan wasn't willing to switch with me)!  To solve this issue, my parents took the beds apart so we had our own beds at the same level.