life is a rollercoaster

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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It’s been a mixed few weeks. The Easter holidays presented lots of opportunities for auntie time. Unfortunately, my body has seized every opportunity to mess with me.

My first Easter adventure was a trip to The Burrell Collection. I spent a lot of time here as a kid and always enjoyed it. It is so nice to share it with the next generation. The boy absolutely loved all the swords and armour. I loved watching him explore.

Dress – Forever 21 Tights – Snag Boots – Air Cloudies

The Burrell is really good on the accessibility front. Wide flat spaces that are easy to manoeuvre. Plenty of places to sit throughout, plus light weight stools you can carry around with you. Spacious lifts to all floors. It is a stunning buildings, with exhibits to entertain all ages.

As you know, I’m big into my glasses. I can never have enough. Thus, I was delighted to collab with Firmoo. These blue beauties have been on my face since the moment they arrived.

Next up was a little dip with my bestie & her brood. Swimming is my favourite, not least because I can properly carry on with kids. In the water I can move with ease. It feels so good not to be in pain every second. It’s even better to play a shark, spin the kids, help them ‘swim’. Much fun was had even if my littlest niece was frustrated that she needed to hold on to me. She was determined that she could do it herself and was not convinced when I explained that she couldn’t swim. Swimming with littles requires clothes that can be easily pulled on whilst squeezed into a tiny changing room with a wiggly child. These wide legs were perfect.

Trousers – Pockets and Sedition Cardigan – Monsoon

A few days later I was back with the treesome for the twin’s birthday. I can’t believe they are three already. It’s a cliche, but kids really do grow too fast! I still call these two babies, which is wishful thinking. They are so smart & funny & full of love. It is an honour to be part of their lives. We had a classic children’s party; balloons, cake & pass the parcel. It was a joy.

On the flip side my insomnia is in full force. Tossing & turning for hours every night is torture. I lie there exhausted, but feeling this horrendous unsettled sensation all over. The more I dwell on this physical embodiment of anxiety, the further away sleep gets. Every day feels like wading through mud. Surviving on minuscule amounts of sleep is the absolute worst.

When my body isn’t refusing to sleep, it’s passing out. Pots is kicking my arse. My latest fainting disaster resulted in two small fractures of my hand. The good news is that the bones are fast healing. The bad is that it is my walking stick hand and weight bearing is not easy. I’m feeling overwhelmed about how this is going to impact my mobility. Fingers crossed the predicted 3 weeks healing time is correct.