By Ginny Butcher in Conscious Being.
When I was young I would say that my relationship with my wheelchair was akin to that of a turtle and her shell. I stand by this analogy. To me, my wheelchair is most literally a part of my body. It enables me, supports me, and if you take it away I will be unable to live.
My disability means that I need a lot of structural support to be able to sit up; I cannot hold my head or spine up by myself. I have a specially designed seating system which is moulded to my body shape. Any wheelchair user who uses a moulded seat can tell you what a painstaking process it is to get it right upon creation. I have to sit in a huge beanbag for about two hours while a man moves my body around like I’m a rag doll.
A few months later, I can try my new chair for the first time, and hopefully it feels great. But then I need to get the armrests in the right place so that I can eat and drink, and the headrest in the right place so that I can breathe properly, and the footrest in the right place so that I don’t get pressure sores.
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