Today is a big day for me. We head off to see the doctor to talk about beginning the process that will end in a power wheelchair for me. My push chair is just fine for travel and I can still walk the short distances around the house but I need something to use to get around our new neighbourhood. The long distances I would like to be able to negotiate on my own. Joe doesn't complain but sometimes when I hear his breath coming hard from pushing me, I feel dreadfully guilty. I'd like to be able to travel beside him again. So, a power chair is the answer.
I'm terrified of the process. I just know that this means I've got to put myself at the mercy of a bunch of other people, evaluators, experts, in order to get the paperwork all done so that the chair can be purchased on one programme or another. I don't like going through this kind of thing and go in expecting to have to deal with those who, from the power of their position, learned arrogence rather than compassion. You go one of two ways in this biz - I see it all the time and have discovered that there really is 'a road less travelled.'
But I'm going to put my brave face on and just settle down and do it. I'm going to be motivated by the independance I see ahead of me while I'm dealing with the people the paper and the process. I want so much to be able to say, "No, you stay, I'll go and pick up some bread." I want so much to be able to feel like I'm contributing more to our day to day life. I want to reclaim ground lost.
I was talking to someone at work about getting a power chair and she lost control of her face, she showed ... I don't know ... sorrow. "And that's OK with you?" she said. I explained that all the power chair meant was that I could go longer distances without assistance. It didn't mean anything else. I'm not 'worse' ... I've just adapted in my mind to what my needs really are. Nothing else has changed.
So today I begin a process that will lead to a new chair. And I'm guessing a few exasperated blogs along the way.