Carla's canine companions are MIA. They 'don't do rain'.
I’m 65! I have arrived! Arrived without any major ongoing health issues, testament to following the ‘you are what you eat’ and ‘use it or lose it’ school of living well daily.
From the age of 2ish to age 8, it was heavy metal waist-high braces with lots of leather; from 8-12, metal ankle-foot orthotics (AFOs).
Braces free from age 12 to date, save a few months in the 80s with a short-lived relationship with moulded plastic AFOs, I still rely on axillary crutches, having never felt safe using the forearm crutches of my my toddlerhood. My current pair, beat up wooden things with attached ice picks thanks to A.R. Menzies, certified orthotists, are genuine antiques. I learned recently that the ice picks are not longer part of today’s crutches.
Last year my wheelchair, after 28 years of service was officially retired and, via Tango Medical, donated to the Easter Seals loaner program as it still had life left in it for the occasional user.
Just as with my ‘little red racer’ my new chair is not used full time. Instead, it’s for grocery and other shopping outings in the city where walking would be exhausting. Regardless of age, exhaustion is a key player in the life of one living with cerebral palsy. Having a chair that fits is very important as well; after a few false starts and taking some getting used to, not unlike breaking in a new pair of shoes, my new chair almost fits me.
I’ve lived outside the city for many years and as time passed it became clear that a wheelchair wasn’t going to be enough to cope with hilly roads, particularly given I have a wonky ticker and propelling a chair up even a slight incline made me feel sick. Since 1999, I’ve benefited from a mobility scooter that, on a daily basis for many years, was much enjoyed by my last terrier, Mr. Jake the Cairn.
Like me, the scooter is gettin’ on in years and starting to show its age, and like me, it requires a tweak every now and then. Several years ago, Trent Mundie, then with Apollo Medical visited me here at my home to assess my scooter; it was veering sideways — sorta like me! The tiller/steering mechanism was broken. Trent left me with a loaner while my scooter was being repaired — that’s service! Once fixed, Mr. Digby and I were back running the roads.
Like Mr. Digby and me, it hummed along great until this past winter when it was getting sluggish. I hoped it was nothing more than pooped out batteries as it came close to taking 3 men and a boy to get the seat off to dismantle the scooter into 3 easy pieces during previous repairs. Major muscle power would be required. I had been leery using the scooter in the winter for fear of it stopping and me being stranded. Recently, on a trash to the road trip, I knew I was in trouble when the battery indicator drifted into the white/red zone after only a short distance on a fully charged battery. There was no way I was going to do that again until the scooter was serviced.
A couple of weeks ago, since Trent, now with Embracor, wasn’t available to replace the batteries, he sent his colleague, Scott, who was prepared — he brought along a little blow torch! When I told him how old the scooter was, he commented that it was in very good shape, going on to say that he’d seen scooters and wheelchairs only 2-3 years old that were really banged up — lots of wear and tear. No doubt their users gave them a lot more daily use than I give mine.
Scott, from Embracor
Ready to Ride
For persons with mobility challenges, when something goes wrong with equipment, it’s critical that we have access to people who appreciate our need for mobility and safety. Thanks to A.R. Menzies, Tango Medical, Embracor, among others, we can live and work in the community, confident that our modes of transportation will be kept in tip-top shape.
Since the battery replacement, I was able to do what most homeowners do with ease — take out the trash. So confident was I that the scooter would work just fine, I hopped on, not bothering with shoes. Steering with one hand and holding a box for disposal in the other, I made it to the end of my driveway. Mission accomplished.
There was only one thing missing. The passing trucker didn’t honk his horn. Hey, I was color co-ordinated with robe, PJs n socks. Next time, I’m bringing a dog!
Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her geriatric Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca
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