5:00 am

Today, for the first time, I got in the car and went for a drive by myself. We needed a few things from the farmers’ market across town, so I told Bling I would be happy to drive over there and pick them up. When he got up to go with me, I told him I’d like to go alone. When he tried to resist, I gave him my best I’m-going-to-do-what-I-want-and-nothing-you-can-say-will-stop-me look. Bling has seen that look several times in the last two months, so he just let me go. It’s almost ironic that only a week ago, I needed to be coaxed out of the apartment, but now I was determined to go out on my own.

The car came back from the shop last week. Adapting to the new hand levers was easy. I learned how to use them that first day. But I discovered that getting myself and the wheelchair into and out of the car was more difficult than expected. I’ve been doing transfers at home with no problem, but with the door in the way and the difference in access angles, the car was a different story. Bling and I spent most of the week working on adaptations. Yet even with Bling’s help, I struggled to complete the transfers.

Now I insisted on doing it by myself. I wasn’t really ready, Bling knew it and I knew it, but he silently tossed me the cell phone, an unspoken ‘just in case’, and let me go. The elevator ride to the parkade seemed too slow. I needed to get outside now. I had enough of helplessness and dependence. It was time to take back some of my life.

I wheeled over to the passenger side of the car so I wouldn’t have to contend with the steering wheel as well as the door. I opened the door and aligned the chair with the passenger seat. I set the brakes and placed my feet on the ground. The angle of the door prevented a typical transfer, so Bling and I had worked on a modification. I placed my left hand on the dashboard and my right hand behind me on the handlebar of the chair. I leaned forward as far as I could, simultaneously tipping the chair with my right hand and allowing myself to slip onto the car seat. From the angle I was in, I could see that my hips were barely on the edge of the seat. I quickly let go of the chair and pushed against the backrest and dashboard to get myself further into the car. There was no way I was going to land on my butt on the concrete floor today.

I let my legs dangle outside the door as I reached for the chair and folded it. If getting myself into the car was physically challenging, getting the chair in behind me was just plain frustrating. If I could get the small front wheels into the narrow space behind the seat, then the rest would follow. Bling and I had worked on this the longest, but as yet we had not found a better solution. My angle was not the best, so I had to rely on force, momentum and sheer luck to pop the wheels over the edge of the car. After about ten attempts, they finally popped over. The rest of the chair slid in relatively easily.

Next, I turned my attention to getting myself behind the wheel. I pulled my legs into the car, then shut the door behind me. I pushed myself over to the driver’s side, moving a few inches at a time, then stopped to pull my legs along. When I finally got the key in the ignition and the car started, it was the sweetest sound I ever heard. I looked at the clock and realized it had taken me twenty minutes just to get into the car. I didn’t care. It could have taken an hour and I still would have done it.

I drove to the market and repeated it all again in reverse order to get out of the car. I wheeled through the maze of shops and picked up a few things. I couldn’t even remember what we needed, but I figured I should go back with something to show for my effort.

Two hours later, after repeating the process two more times, I rolled back into the apartment with my prizes. Bling looked at me with amusement as I silently tossed the unused cell phone back at him. As I rolled into the kitchen to begin preparing for dinner, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

Me gloat? Never!

As I think about it now, I can’t help but smile again. But I have to admit that a quick trip to the market will never again mean the same thing to me.