A couple of weeks I go I took wee trip with my sister & nephews. We took advantage of the September weekend holiday to seek some thrills in Alton Towers.

I am famously a giant scaredy cat when it comes to rollercoasters. So much so that I am often put to shame by small children. This time I had an added fear factor. For the first time I ever, I booked a mobility scooter. Perhaps mobility aids don’t strike you as terrifying, but believe me, they are.

We booked the scooter months ago and I spent the intervening time trying not to obsess over it. I know it isn’t rational. A mobility aid is just a tool to help me do something I want to do. However, admitting that I need more help is complicated. Chronic illness and disability can feel like a war of attrition. Each new accessibility need feels like a part of me being chipped away. Adding another activity to the the ‘can’t’ list is one more defeat. I don’t want to be this reliant on anything. Of course I understand that these feelings are rooted in stigma. The social pressure to find worth in productivity & capability is huge. Separating the emotional response from what I intellectually know is no easy feat. Top that off with some plain old dread; worrying about the rude stares and questions. All told, it leaves me battling with myself.

I’m not usually a person who enjoys being pushed out of my comfort zone, but in this instance I was grateful for my sister’s shove. Without it, I may have prevaricated until it was too late. In the end most of my worry was futile. I would never have managed without the scooter. Having it made the entire trip much more enjoyable. Instead of fighting pain and breathlessness, I was able to navigate the park with relative ease. I didn’t have to worry about finding a seat every five minutes. I wasn’t stressing about ruining everyone’s fun because I can’t manage or constantly need to rest. I not only had more fun, but I was more fun. My littlest nephew was thrilled to ride around on my lap. My big boy was delighted that Auntie could keep up & join in with everything. My sister didn’t have to worry about what would be too much for me. The mobility scooter was a win.

Of course there were some looks and someone made a comment to my sister. I found that I really didn’t care. The benefits absolutely outweighed the fear. I’d love to say that this experience wiped out all the negative feelings, but life is never that easy. The grief remains and I am sure I will stress just as much next time. However, I won’t be having an internal debate. I know the scooter helps and I know my life is enhanced by accepting it. That’s the message I wanted to share. I completely understand the reluctance, but mobility aids (or anything designed to increase accessibility) exist to make life easier. They work. They allow us to do things we otherwise couldn’t. They remove some of the struggle and increase the joy. If these aids are available to you, please make use of them. Fuck the stigma, fear and anything else holding you back. It’s worth it, promise.

Oh and in case anyone was wondering, I didn’t conquer my rollercoaster fear. I was screaming on the Bluey ride.

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