Owen and Eleanor Make Things Up by H. M. Bouwman & Charlie Alder

Author:H. M. Bouwman & Charlie Alder [Bouwman, H. M. & Alder, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780143787631
Amazon: B079Q83JW3
Publisher: Sparkhouse Family
Published: 2018-11-06T00:00:00+00:00

19

Wheels in motion

The morning toilet routine didn’t get any easier. If anything it became harder, and I grew more frustrated because I knew what I was in for. It was the most difficult part of the day, a real test of willpower, especially as it often came after another sleepless night. It was a matter of salvaging enough dignity to get through the rest of the day.

Instead of the powerchair, on my request I was now hoisted into a manual wheelchair and, although still strapped in, I felt much freer but still so weak. It was an old clunker with big, nearly flat tyres, plastic wheel rims and a massive backrest. (It was only some time later that I found out what a difference fully inflated tyres made to pushing a chair around, but maybe it helped in the long run to build up my strength.) Once I was in Aimee and Mum wheeled me to the gym. Jenny welcomed us and gave more information on what to expect and the exercises that I’d be doing. It would be a slow start, and then we would get into the full rehab process. This meant I was going to be in hospital anywhere from a few weeks to a few months – whatever it took – and once I was ready they would ship me off to the specialist rehabilitation centre at Moorong to finish rehab and prepare me for home.

After the introduction, she pushed me over to the handcycle again. Reluctantly, I took the pedals and started to work while the others walked away to discuss other matters. I soon got sick of it and decided it was time to try and push my wheelchair. If I was going to be in a wheelchair forever, wouldn’t it be best that I start straightaway?

Right. I think I feel stable enough. I’m just going to give it a go. The brake levers on the wheelchair had these big extenders sticking up, because I didn’t have the dexterity to use them otherwise. I worked my way into a position where I could operate the levers and take the brakes off. Then I rotated a hundred and eighty degrees, which seemed to take an eternity. Pushing on the handrims felt weird, and I was only moving the chair by about a centimetre with each exhausting push. Jenny and Aimee were looking the other way, deep in conversation, expecting me to stay on the handcycle for ten or fifteen minutes. I could see them now that I’d spun around and made a beeline in their direction. It would have been pretty funny if there had been a camera on the wall recording my efforts to spin and struggle to cover ten metres. All of a sudden I was behind Aimee, and I gave her a fright: ‘How did you get here? What have you done?’

I was pretending to be casual, ‘Oh … I just pushed myself over,’ but I had my chest puffed out, full of pride.

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