I have alluded to this in the past, but when I sit down on Skeeter, I get this overwhelming, calming sensation. When I'm scooting, there is at least a temporary reprieve from any potential fall. I'm used to falls being an inevitable part of life and breaks
(break as in "pause", not "fracture") from that are welcome. The perfect fall
(aside from none) is one where no injury is incurred, there are no witnesses, but first responders are at hand if required. It's not that everyone hasn't fallen for one reason or another, and people are quick to offer aid and assistance, but it's embarrassing to the fallee and distressing to witnesses! I'm happy to take responsibility for being clumsy, stupid, drinking too much wine–even the "I just fell" fall. I just don't want to share responsibility with anyone, unless they pushed. It
is my party...
 |
A cane
works for
knees, hips
& legs |
 |
| Trekking poles |
Initially, to aid in staying upright, I used a cane, but I thought trekking poles were a better solution because my problem wasn't unilateral weakness, but bilateral imbalance. Trekking poles forced me to stay centered, stand upright, strengthened my core, and didn't look as debilitating (at the time, it seemed important) as a walker. They didn't help prevent falling backwards or give support when going up a curb, but were a good interim step for a couple years. Airline security was a consistent nightmare. "Lady, you'll have to check these ski poles." My personal favorite– "Are you going hiking somewhere?"
Earl would patiently explain that the
trekking poles were being used as an assistive device, I needed them, they would fit through the security x-ray, and at the same time, manage to prevent me from saying or doing anything inappropriate.
A rollator/walker removes all doubt that the user has disabilities, and when I realized I was avoiding certain activities and settings, I moved to a 3-wheeled Winnie rollator. What it lacks in stability, it gains in maneuverability and collapsibility. More importantly, it relieved much of the terror I felt when out. It forces me to distribute weight evenly (I do), stand up straight (I don't), and lighten up on the hands (I try). A death-grip on a rollator doesn't enhance braking, safety, or mobility. Skeeter affords me the freedom to get out, cover some ground without fear of falling on my face, my butt, whatever... (I know I've probably already said that in an earlier post); that's my poor memory.
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| Winnie Rollator |
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When I exercise upstairs,
I go for stability |
A word about "looking disabled".
I appreciate how difficult it is to admit you need any assistive device, but it beats getting picked up off the ground
frequently. I had to get over my reluctance by admitting to myself that I
do have physical disabilities, and to have people recognize that has more advantages than disadvantages. At every step, "Getting it out there" has served me well. Before I used a cane, people assumed I was drunk or clumsy
(my self-esteem couldn't handle that for long). With trekking poles, they were never quite sure. My Winnie Rollator may look more debilitating, but it actually enhanced my independence, especially indoors. And Skeeter?
No question that I have disabilities; it's interesting to watch people scatter, thinking the disability might be visually spatial!
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