What I cannot do, however, is have days out, spend too much time in the city centre that I love so much or get into London to meet friends for drinks. Even my Book Club is a struggle; D can walk me to the venue from the car, but after a couple of hours in discussion about books and generally chatting to nice people I am physically and emotionally frazzled and struggle to make it back to the car when D collects me. Even getting to Galleywood Common for a picnic is out of the question because too much activity is… well, it’s too much. I either seize or I am physically sick – sometimes both. I am prone to falls and – especially in hot weather – fainting.
Therefore, I have bitten the bullet and ordered myself a wheelchair. Not because I am lazy, or defeatist, but because I am so tired of having to stay home due to post-seizure brain fog or fear of fainting. I want to be able to do more, not less!
I very often attend events and forget my limits, which can result in meltdown, seizure and sometimes even vomiting. A wheelchair will give me a physical reminder that I mustn’t become overexcited or overconfidant and that I need to remember to relax and take a few deep breaths sometimes.
Many wheelchair users can walk, but having access to a chair opens up an entire plethora of opportunities that they may well otherwise be too tired/sick/physically or emotionally limited from to indulge in.
I am not ashamed to admit – finally – that I need a wheelchair if I want to function more outside of the home. I’ve spent too long pontificating on the matter already and so I am determined to open up opportunites that are lost to me if it means having to walk for too long.