Over at the Bad Cripple blog, William Peace writes about his temporary forced bed rest and how keenly he misses his wheelchair:
I miss my wheelchair, I miss the power it gives me to be independent. I miss the feel of upholstery against my back. I miss pushing against the tires and the intimate knowledge I have as to how I can direct it’s forward thrust. Why I even miss the dirt I collect during the day on the wheelchair frame-an absence my lab misses as my tires clearly pick up smells that are utterly fascinating. I miss watching a scary movie and the way I slightly rock back and forth. I could go on but I miss my wheelchair more than anyone can imagine.
I haven’t been without a wheelchair for more than a few hours in at least a decade, so it’s difficult for me to imagine being away from it for weeks at a time. It certainly wouldn’t take long for me to miss it. My wheelchair and ventilator are probably the two most vital devices in my life, but I feel a connection with my chair that simply doesn’t exist for my vent. The vent is a machine, but my chair is an extension of my personal space.
