The invisible man

Thursday August 25

I’m lucky, while the ability to walk is taken away at the moment, it should be only temporary. Some have this experience all their lives. For a short period I experience what it is like, and how it changes what people think of you when you may be 100% alert and fully human, but you just happen not to have the power to walk.

Two weeks after my accident I go to Perth with my sister to do a few things. While I can move on crutches, the distances would be too great, so we hire a wheelchair from Shopmobilty (https://www.shopmobilityuk.org/), an extremely wonderful organisation that allows people to hire wheelchairs while visiting a place. It’s the first time in my life to be in a wheelchair outside a hospital. From this position there is a certain joy at seeing the world from a different angle, but there is also insight into the attitudes of the average human.

On the positive side are those who get out of the way, of move an object tout of the way so that you can proceed. There is a second group who don’t seem to notice at all (can be good and bad, but here I mean people who appear so in their own world, rather than actively ignoring), and finally there are those who notice and seem to think the inability to walk means you have lost all ability to act as a normal human. This is best summed up by the shop assistant I hand a pack of socks to and who proceeds to do the whole transaction by talking to my sister! They are my socks (or to be when I’ve paid), I am the one who has handed them over, and I’m the one with the bank card ready to pay.

How people who spend their lives in a wheelchair manage not to go ballistic on these people is a marvel.