Life with a walker
Me in my purple walker, with a doggy friend
A silly instance with mywalker tonight got me to thinking about life with a walker. I was sitting onthe bed changing into pajamas, had one leg into the pajama bottoms when Irealized the other leg was entangled with the wheel of the walker, which wassitting in front of me. For a moment, I was puzzled--how could it possibly havewrapped itself around the wheel? Then I realized it would be a whole lot easierto deal with the situation if I were not attached to the pajamas. So I pulledmy leg out, lifted the walker a bit, and unwound the pants. But it reminded meof another instance recently—my transport chair, a much heavier thing thatrefuses to stand on its own when collapsed, lives at the foot of my bed, proppedagainst the high footboard of the antique bed. I went to put something on the dresser,and somehow the wheels of the two walkers were entangled, and the transportchair came crashing down. For a moment I was trapped, couldn’t move, and had afleeting thought of panic. But my cooler head—executive mind as one counselorcalls it—prevailed. I sat in a chair that was right there, untangled thewheels, and was free. When Jordan came out, I asked her to right the transportchair. A physical therapist once told me never to go anywhere, even in mycottage, without my cell phone—and I didn’t have it either of those times.Lesson reinforced
I’ve been using a walker forseven years now, ever since my hip revision (not replacement—there’s adifference). I call it my chariot, which dismays Jordan. But I sort of feelthat way. The walker gives me confidence that I never had before. All my life I’vehad poor balance—my mother bemoaned the fact that she’d never given me balletlessons, but I don’t think it would have made a difference. If you believe inagoraphobia (fear of open spaces), you might agree that’s what I have. I havealways been terrified by heights, had difficulty with stairs, walked around theedge of a parking lot rather than cutting across it. I read somewhere thatpeople who are afraid of height need something to hold on to—and that’s me, forsure. I was always grateful for a good railing on a staircase. And now, thewalker gives me something to hold on to. My doctor never uses the word agoraphobiabut says I am wired differently than most people.
Oh, sure. There are things Iwant to do that are difficult to impractical with the walker, and I havelearned to adjust to that. And sometimes I dream that I am walking asconfidently as I did in my twenties. But for the most part, I am grateful forthe walker. My surgeons says never to say I can’t walk but always to say I canwalk with assistance. Too often I encounter people who really need assistanceand stubbornly let their pride get in the way. Makes me almost angry. So foolish.What I know, as a survivor of too many falls, is that my hip would not havebeen such a severe case had I not fallen so often (the surgeon had never seen onelike it and had to study to decide on his technique—I don’t mean to sound likethose people who brag about how rare their condition is, but that’s whathappened). In seven years since I’ve had the walker, I’ve fallen once, and thatwas because I fell asleep on the commode in the middle of the night and did aface plant on the bathroom floor.
At one point I had enoughdisability devices that I threatened to open my own store. Over time, I’vegotten that down to three things—the four-wheeled walker I use daily in thecottage, an extra which is still in a friend’s storage unit, and the transportchair I use almost every time I leave the cottage. I guess I’ve become a pro atdisability which is bittersweet. But I don’t think the walker has slowed downmy appreciation for life or my enjoyment of it. It is a pain for family andfriends to pack up the transport chair (it is so wonderful but so unwieldy),but I find most are willing. And I find people in general are anxious to behelpful, to hold a door, to stand back and let you pass. Being “disabled” (I don’tlike that word) gives you a whole new perspective on life.
So the next time you have afriend who stubbornly refuses to use a cane or a walker, send them my way. Why,I even got my brother to use a walker! A major accomplishment.
