Post the Seventy-First - silver linings

I thought about calling this post ate seven', but that would've been disingenuous, because nothing has actually happened with my chair since I last wrote about it. Or, rather, nothing bad has happened. So I chose the title 'silver linings' because today I think I discovered one of the reasons my chair broke.

I don't believe I've mentioned the number of chairs we've had in this house at various points over the last few months. There were five, none of which worked. Two are perhaps obvious - my broken electric and a new manual the wheelchair clinic had sent but which wasn't modified appropriately for me to use. The other three were as follows:

1. my old manual, which no longer has a backrest or a seat
2. my old electric, kept in case of emergencies after the wheelchair clinic said they'd just scrap it, but no longer suits my needs and we've finally decided it must go.
3. an electric that a friend was no longer able to use, lent to us for my Papa to modify, if at all possible

It is this last one around which my post centres today. Papa was given free reign, so he took it away to perform the necessary adjustments (hopefully). Due to the fact that my friend has to have her chairs driven by an attendant, the joystick was positioned at the back, so the first thing he had to do was move that to the front. In fact, we thought that was the only thing he'd have to do, aside from some minor rewiring. It turned out, however, that the back brackets weren't compatible with my backrest and the footplates couldn't quite be persuaded to get to (or to simulate, with some help) a 90° angle.

So I couldn't use it, and it has sat rather forlornly in our passage - until today, that is.

One of my former helpers has two boys, the eldest of whom is sixteen, and a keen footballer. Unfortunately, in the last year, he has had to undergo treatment for brain and spine tumours. I won't go into details, because it isn't my story to share, but the effects of the treatment mean that he now finds it difficult to walk for long distances and hasn't really wanted to leave the house too often.

Mama and I were going to visit them today, when we suddenly thought about the chair, and the possibility of him using it. We phoned and asked if he'd like it. The answer was a resounding yes! I stayed at home, because we can't fit two big electric chairs in the car, and Mama went to deliver it - and when she came home she couldn't stop grinning and telling me how delighted he was to be able to play with his friends again without getting tired.

So I think that's why my chair broke. If it hadn't, we wouldn't have been given the other one to modify, and wouldn't have been able to offer it to him when it didn't work for me. The thought of his delight makes every single minute of the time I spent without power worthwhile.

I really mean that last sentence. I know what it's like to feel trapped by your body and unable to join in when you so desperately want to, and I'd do anything to ensure that he and others have a way out of that experience. That's why I'm fundraising for Starlight, of course, and why I will continue to do so for as long as I can think up new and innovative ideas. Yet it also felt super special to be able to grant a wish of sorts myself, not through money, but through coincidence of circumstance - being the right person at the right time.

Let's put it this way - I remember the freedom I felt when I first tried out a powered chair, aged five, and then when I got my own at the age of seven. To have been able to give that freedom to someone else feels even better.

I'm just so happy he can go out again. Now we can race ;)!