Today is the 2 year anniversary of using my walker full time. What a weird anniversary. Part of me can’t believe it has only been two years, the other part is in shock that I’ve been disabled to the point of needing full-time assistance that long.
I am so thankful for my walker. It has allowed me to continue living the life I want by granting me independence safely. My walker has prevented many falls. It has helped me feel brave and strong. My walker has seen me through a lot and given me peace of mind.
It has also caused so much turmoil, sadness, and frustration. It has been the constant physical representation of my resentment that I have had to cling to for two years. For two years now, it has shadowed me, reminding me of everything I despise about my body and my disease. It breaks my heart and strengthens my resolve every single day.
Bottom line is that my walker helps me get out of bed and get from point A to point B. For that, I am grateful. I am aware that, as my symptoms progress and I'm no longer able to walk even with assistance, I will long for these days. That perspective always shuts down my pity parties and reinvigorates my energy.
When people see my walker, they see my disability. When people call me inspiring because of my disability, it catches me off guard for a minute. I am just doing what I need to do to survive and lead the life I want. While I used to think of the walker as admitting defeat and becoming “disabled,” I now see it as a necessity to life.
I can't wait to see what adventures my walker and I go on in the next two years, and to keep building memories of everyday moments because of my walker.
Now to lighten up this serious post, here's a picture of me and my walker playing an "eat the donut hands-free" game at our annual Lake-A-Palooza in summer 2020.
