Take A Ride

I took my first serious ride in a wheel chair a few days ago. It took a bit of convincing (read, bullying) to get me to shut up and sit down, but Ikea is just too big of a place to be able to wander around under my own power. Though it wasn't until my vision started going wonky and I couldn't take more than a few steps without nearly falling over that I finally agreed to park myself on a bench until my friend returned with the chair.

Though after that, it really was an adventure. I'll admit to feeling a little bit childish, but only in the good, someone is taking complete care of me, sort of way. I suppose it was reminiscent of my days being pushed around in a stroller or a shopping cart. The latter would have been more appropriate here, as my lap soon became piled with stuff.

All in all, it was not a bad experience. I think that the next time I come here, I'll skip trying to act like Super Woman and just start in the chair. We'll need to make sure there are three of us. One person to push me, and one to push the cart ;)

I will admit that the thought of things like a cane (which I now use about half the time that I am out and about) and a wheelchair frightens me. I dislike being dependent on people and things. Perhaps this comes from growing up with parents and other family members who have always encouraged me to stand on my own two feet. Perhaps its tainted by the time that I spent being totally dependent on people whom I then had to cut ties with. Either way, it scares the hell out of me.

I have been taking prescription pain killers for about two years, now. Even that is a dependency that I am hesitant to lean on. Granted that if I stopped taking the first of three, I would be completely bed ridden, and puking my guts out from the pain, unable to form a coherent thought past the fog of searing, throbbing pain. But the other two, I only have to take if the pain levels spike to where the first is no longer quite enough. All three are non narcotic. All three have side effects preferable to the symptoms. And yet...

I have to constantly remind myself, and be reminded by those around me, that it's okay to take them when I need them. That it's stupid, and even a little childish, not to. Even a little masochistic.

So I put on my big girl pants, and I take the pills when my hands start to shake with the tell tale sign that I'm in more pain than my body can handle. I make a pot of tea and accept that I am going to drink at least half of it just to keep up the energy it takes to sweep the floors and wash the dishes. I take my cane when I leave the house if there's the slightest hint of numbness or weakness in my limbs. And I come to peace with the fact that it's possible that I may have to start planning to make this place wheelchair accessible.