You can walk

“Great picture in the Guardian with the wheelchair,” said the one-armed man as we were sitting in the Canton Restaurant. “I know you better than that. You can walk ,” he said with a wink.

I laughed “Are you kidding? You think the chair is a prop?”

“Yeah, you used to play at Brennan’s without a chair,” he replied.

“That is true, but I mostly sat on a stool when I sang,” I said.

“For the record I am semi-ambulatory which means I can walk but not well and not often. Did you know I spend 90% of my time in a wheelchair? When you see me walking, that’s the 10% I try to get out and walk.”

“I didn’t know that! Well you can always learn something,” and off he went.

The Nova Scotia Homes for Special Care Act defines semi-ambulatory as “the ability of a person to move about with the assistance of mechanical aides or devices but not involving assistance from another person;” It comes from amble which means a leisurely stroll or walk.

As my occupational therapist put it to me: you can walk but you shouldn’t.

Roger Perry when he was in a wheelchair said “Get out of that chair man. Get walking.”

Thanks Roger. Up to then everyone was telling me “Stay in your wheelchair.”

Here’s another optical delusion. People see me all the time in my ultra-lite wheelchair and assume I’m a wheelchair athlete, ready to wheel the marathon. The truth is my home chair is electric because with Post Polio Syndrome I don’t have the strength to push all day.

When they take the electric for repairs, I quickly tire even at home using the manual chair. Survival techniques for the semi-ambulatory.

So every day I try to walk a little. It’s a treat after sitting and it gives me a sense of freedom. If I get carried away and walk too much, the next day I have to stay home, totally in the chair and chew pain killers.

Every disability is different and each person the disabling effect is different. Such is life. I’m lucky to have the bit of walking I do but it isn’t much.