Revenge of the Mobility Machines

I have been wrangling an electric scooter for some years now. It isn’t difficult, and it has allowed me to greatly expand my world from four walls to my neighborhood … and beyond.

Last year it became evident that I needed indoor mobility assistance as well. I jumped through all the necessary hoops and I untangled red tape with Medicare, and they sprang for one. They didn’t give me a choice or let me try out any of the buggies, nor did they give me much in the way of driving lessons when it was delivered. They just said, “Here’s your chair,” and left me to figure it out.

I have wrestled with this chair for a year and a half. The nice thing about the scooter is it has a short wheelbase and I usually have plenty of space to maneuver it. The Chair has a very long wheelbase (three sets of wheels!) and, though it turns on a dime, it takes a damn big dime to turn on. And it seems like anything that is within 50 feet of it will get caught under one of the wheels and dragged across the room until I notice that I’m trailing a grocery bag or a dog toy or a throw rug. Or that I've knocked something off of a table.

One of the hardest lessons to learn with the Chair has been to remember to turn it off, or at least put it in neutral when I’m doing something that requires bending over the front of the chair. If it’s on and I lean on the joystick, The Chair will go places I do not want it to go. Often I’m close to a cupboard or piece of furniture and the forward motion will bang me into it. Fortunately, so far, it hasn’t involved running over children or pets or flying off of a porch.

The other day I was attempting to do a juggling act with both mobility devices. I had taken Liza for her scoot and needed to exchange the scooter for The Chair to go back in the house. Because the cottage remodel has begun, there is construction material in the courtyard. And we just had a million inches of rain, so there was a great deal of mud in the area.

I moved The Chair to get my scooter into its parking spot. I tossed the rain cover onto The Chair and it landed on the joystick – off goes The Chair, all on its own, headed for the mud and the visqueen and the new construction. Luckily, it got stuck on a metal border and sat there spinning all six of its wheels.

In the meantime, I had been moving the scooter by holding the accelerator and handlebars and walking beside it. I must have startled when The Chair took off; I didn’t let go of the scooter (which would have stopped it) and it flung me into the mud and onto a pile of wooden stakes (pointy side down, whew!). I sat there for a minute, checking my extremities and hips, then started yelling for Laurie to “Help!”  (No, don’t say it!)  “Laurie, I’ve fallen….  (No!) … and I can’t (No! No! No!) get up!” (Aaaaarrrrgghh!) The truth is, I hadn’t tried, but I was in such a state I convinced myself that I couldn’t.

After a couple of minutes, I heard a man’s voice: “I’m coming!” Our neighbor Chris is a pretty amazing guy, always willing and able to help. He came over and lifted me up (not an easy task!), checked for injuries (he’s also a nurse), and then rescued The Chair that was still on the loose (but still stuck on the border). After he was sure I was basically OK, he finished the wrangling of the machines, and I was merrily on my way. 

Laurie (who hadn’t heard my pleas for help) asked me, after she made sure I was OK, “Where was your phone?”  “In my pocket.” It hadn’t occurred to me to call her, not that she could have dropped three babies to come to my rescue. But she could have shouted words of encouragement!

I was not seriously injured, but have some lovely bruises and not so lovely sore muscles. 

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Well, here’s some really good news!  We are the recipients of a very generous gift from some dear friends – money for a van that will be equipped with a ramp so I can wheel right into it. This will make areas of our lives so much less complicated. I’m chuffed! And extremely grateful to amazing friends!

Not this one ... but I like the color!

Invisible

There is a tendency for women to become unseen as they age. Add to that disability and obesity and I’ve hit the trifecta of invisibility.

Now, there are times I don’t mind being invisible. I am an introvert, which doesn’t mean I’m shy or that I avoid people, I just don’t get my best energy from being around people for long periods of time.

Times I do mind not being seen are when I’m trying to get someone’s attention in a store or at an event. I’ve learned to be vocal when I need something off a shelf that I can’t reach when I’m shopping. I don’t even wait for an employee, I’ll ask anyone nearby to give me a hand, and people are usually more than happy to help. I often crack a joke or at least try to be upbeat about it.

Last year I decided to do something wild to my hair. I have never colored it or tried to do anything fancy – I don’t have the patience to mess with it. But I’ve grown quite fond of the fun colors that people are sporting these days, so I went to my guy and said “color me purple!” I showed him a photo of what I had in mind – strips of purple and teal (aka ‘mermaid blue’). I was so happy and excited when he was done with it – the streaks of color popped out from my silver hair. I knew it was going to be fun. 

What I didn’t consider was how visible it makes me until Laurie pointed it out to me. During our trip to Seattle, I must have had 50 comments on my hair. One woman at the Chihuly garden thought they should pay me to sit in the garden because my hair looked so beautiful with the art! Almost every time I’m out in public, I get comments, always positive, usually from women, though occasionally a man will say something.

And I find that I like the attention! Here I sit in my scooter or wheelchair, an overweight, aging woman, and all sorts of people are telling me how fun – beautiful – unique – colorful – awesome – my hair is! Maybe it gives them something to focus on besides the disability; or maybe it’s so unexpected for someone my age. It is definitely a conversation starter.

I plan to keep it this way for the foreseeable future until I get tired of it. I don’t have to fuss with it or do anything complicated – just scoot over to the salon once a month and kick back while Kahala works his magic and we discuss the state of the world.

Older women are overlooked in so many arenas - in business, politics, advertising, entertainment. Perhaps we need a women’s purple revolution!

Remember this poem from a couple of decades ago?

Warning

by Jenny Joseph