Sunday, 25 November 2012

18


I’ve not talked much about holidays, other than when we went to North Wales. It got that the cottage didn’t work as there were far too many stairs and I couldn’t get up them.

Instead we used to go camping to Brittany. Mum and Dad used to go there before we offspring had arrived and they decided it would be good to go back again.

We used to go to the big organised camp sites where the tents were already put up for you. We thought they were brilliant holidays. The camp sites tended to be level so it was much easier for me to get around in fact there were rarely any steps at all. I had a power assisted trike which was great. I couldn’t manage a two wheeler ‘cause I fell over all the time which rather slowed my progress so the OSO found a manufacturer who made these trikes. Basically I had to pedal, but when I got too tired, or there was a bit of a hill and I hadn’t the strength in my legs to move the bike, an electric motor kicked in and helped me along(to be honest I would have been happy with it being permanently motorised, but the OSO said it was good to keep my muscles working as long as possible. What did she know?)I was great as it meant I could go out biking with my brothers and all of my friends on the camp site. It was however, very expensive to buy and the parents had to buy a VW Caravelle van with a lift to get my trike and later my wheelchair in; but hey ho!

The trike was designed to be very stable and impossible to tip over,needless to say I managed it!

I was still able to walk a bit at this stage, but running was pretty well impossible. One time we kids got together to organise a ball game as you do. All of the parents were sitting together watching us and slotting down the old wine (what an example I ask you!). After a while they asked me what I was doing walking around with my arms in the air in between my mates who were hitting a ball to each other. We all thought it was obvious that I was the net!

 It often struck me that other children were very rarely bothered about my disability whereas adults invariably were.

Over the years there were loads of occasions where other children would come up to me and ask me about what it was like being in a wheelchair and so on only to be pulled away by their parents. Perhaps they thought what I had was catching and their precious offspring would be affected just by talking to me. On the other hand it may have been because they had seen my Mum and thought she was catching a much worse fate!

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