Wheelchair Shenanigans and Self- Awareness.

Sometimes, we don’t appreciate the value of something until it is gone. I have always been grateful for my power wheelchair, but today, I am especially grateful for it.

On Monday morning, I woke up and looked outside to find the snow and ice were becoming puddles of water. A wave of sheer excitement washed over me. Finally, I thought. Maybe today I can go outside and rip around in my wheelchair with the children I work with at the out of school care program. We have had a horrible winter here. The massive amount of snow has made it impossible for me to navigate through the snow without getting stuck.

I am sure that on Monday afternoon, I looked like a bird that had just been released from her cage, as I pushed my joystick full- throttle towards the playground. And then it happened. While trying to straighten my leaning back, stiffened from euphoria, I hit a concrete lip. I looked down to see my front right wheel and caster lying sideways on the ground. I froze. I had just lost a wheel. My freedom was gone. My employer came running and she called one of my co- workers to come and get me with her vehicle. I had to call my caregiver and ask her to come load my wheelchair into my van.

Then, fate stepped in. Luckily for me, the repair man from Medi Chair was in the area delivering a new wheelchair to a client, and he was able to come to my house with the repair van, which we have since dubbed, the “ wheelchair ambulance” and take it back to Lethbridge with him to be fixed. It wasn’t until I watched it being loaded into the van that I began to laugh uncontrollably. It looked hilarious!

My wheelchair was delivered back to me late yesterday afternoon. It is as good as new. Being without my power chair for most of the day yesterday was extremely challenging, because it minimized my freedom and drastically reduced my level of independence. Even though I have a manual chair for emergencies, even the simplest of tasks like: the ability to carry items were hard, because while in my power chair, I am able to retrieve items and hold onto them with my left hand while I steer with my right hand. Not having my power chair also meant that I was unable to work, which really upset me because I couldn’t do what I love to do most.

I always say that there is so much more to me than my wheelchair. This is true. However, it does affect the quality of my life. It is my legs. It is because of my wheelchair that I am able to live life to my full capacity. It maximizes my independence level, because I don’t have to worry about getting tired from propelling a manual wheelchair. It allows me to have a social life. It is what allows me to go to work every day and pour my whole heart and soul into my job. Without my power chair, I wouldn’t be able to live the life that I have created for myself. It allows me to be Becca.

I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to my awesome co- workers, community members, caregiver and Medi Chair for helping me navigate this sticky situation!

As I write this, I am thinking back to a Ted Talk that was sent to me earlier this morning by a dear friend and co- worker about self- awareness.

Lately, I have been asking a lot of why questions both silently and out loud. Why did my wheelchair have to break? Why am I in so much pain? Why do so many patients with Cerebral Palsy struggle with secondary conditions? Why is my scoliosis getting worse? Why me?

There are some things that just don’t make any sense. I don’t understand why so many people have to struggle, but I have to believe that something good is rooted in all of this. The anger, frustration and grief that have resulted from my recent challenges have caused me to think about what I want. I realize that I can’t change the realities of my condition, but I want to do what I can to alter people’s perception of not just disability, but the challenges in everyone’s life because in that respect, we are all the same. We have all faced arduous situations. I believe those struggles are important, because they inspire us to initiate and create change. I want to make the medical profession aware of these secondary conditions and the fear they have created using my voice. When I close my eyes, all I can think about is all of my fellow CP warriors who are fighting the same battle I am.

Empathy is what fuels my fight.