Strangely, gaining independence by using a mobility scooter

About 10 years ago, I discovered that using a mobility scooter for certain activities increased my independence. Counter-intuitive, I know. It allowed me to be more engaged in my life. Weekend hikes on reasonable terrain with my family. Going to the lookout above our local beach. Heading down the street to the ball park to watch baseball or eat concession food. Good for the soul, bad for the body.

When I first brought the scooter home, my kids were in awe. It didn’t take long before the seemingly available spaces on the machine were covered with their favourite stickers. Princesses. Flowers. Team Canada soccer logos.

At the time, my son Daniel was new in Grade 1. I worked up the courage to drop him off at school using by new scooter.

It didn’t seem that long ago that I was in elementary school and then high school. I clearly remembered how brutal kids could be. And here I was, about to drop Daniel off at school using my scooter.

I am a big boy, and can handle whatever comes my way, but what am I setting my son up for?

We left the house, and headed down the sidewalk towards the school. We hit the playground. I was ready. Guard up.

I spotted one of the “cool kids” making his way across the playground towards us. He was joined by another of his gang, and then two more. They were all around us.

The first punk said, “Is that your scooter?” I said, “Yup.” He said, “That is SO cool. Daniel, you GET to ride with your dad on that?”. Daniel said, “Yes.” The punk replied, “I wish my dad had a scooter.”

No you don’t, kid.

On the way home I laughed to myself. I had wasted so many moments worrying about embarrassing my son. I am not naive to think that every interaction is going to be like that, but it expanded the realm of possible outcomes in my mind.

I am a proud dad and husband. I love my family, and will do whatever they need of me. In this case, I needed to get over the barriers I had put up in front of myself. For those of you who have been reading my other posts about adapting to MS over the past 20 years, learning to manage my own perceptions of myself has been a common theme.

That’s right. I am now a 49-year old guy who proudly displays beautiful stickers on his electric scooter, lovingly given to him by his kids. I wasn’t sure I would ever get comfortable with being different. But here I am.

My scooter lives in my office, a renovated 100 year-old former garage at the end of the driveway, adjacent to our house. The scooter fits nicely into the space available. Theoretically the user would shimmy themselves along the side of the scooter and out the door. Sadly, my days of shimmying are long gone.

Fortunately, each of our three kids has learned to drive the scooter, parking it while avoiding knicking the walls. They bring it out, and help me transfer from my wheelchair into my scooter. They are all good drivers. Maybe even better than me.

Hopefully they don’t figure out that typical valets get tips.

As I mentioned in one of my earliest posts, I write and publish these stories on Substack to help people like me. 20 years ago. At the start of their journey with MS or some other life changing event.

I don’t have a desire to become famous or wealthy from these posts. I am willing to share my experiences, good and bad to help those that need it.

I hope at the very least, you realize you are not alone. You can’t see or hear me, but I am cheering for you!