If we go to the store, I can push my own cart much easier then bending my arm backwards, clinging to the cart basket, and holding on as I pull it. Navigation of tight aisles is a snap and I can reach the higher shelves without a problem.
At the restaurant, I can sit in a booth or at a table. I don’t have to sit in my wheelchair and become a possible blocker of the aisle people walk down to get from table to table. I also don’t have to worry about the table being too low to the ground and my wheelchair too high up so that reaching my plate is a chore. I can actually enjoy a meal as I feed myself without tremors in my hands that cause me to spill all over the place.
After we return home, there is so much I can do. I don’t want to take anything for granted, not even being able to sit on the couch for the first time in ten years. I can even sit on the floor if I wanted. Navigating the steps in my house means I can go anywhere in it. I can even get through the narrow hallways my wheelchair was incapable of navigating.
Getting a drink in the kitchen is a breeze. I don’t need to ask anyone. I can just go and grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge. I can also reach the shelves if I want to get a glass with some ice. Any time I need to go to the bathroom, I can just go without asking for help. Doing things is a lot easier.
I don’t have to be as creative about doing things as I do now. However, my day is not even half over and I’ve already saved an amazing amount of time.
Perhaps I’d even jump up and down, just for the heck of it. I’ve never been able to jump. Not even as a child. I remember struggling to try to jump and being unable to do so. For old time’s sake, I’d get that little thrill of the first jump and then it would be over. Such a simple thing… and yet I’d hold the memory of it close just in case it was a one time thing that I might forget otherwise.