First there was the pre-Christmas illness. Then, while in Perth, I went for only one walk – to the pharmacy – in a town which normally calls out for long walks. I even felt unsteady on my feet roaming around Mom’s big old house.
Mom, who has been using a walker herself for a year or so, suggested I check into getting myself a walker once I returned home.
I did. Yesterday. A walker from my community’s storage was made available to me. I took to it like the proverbial duck to water, although I’m a tad tall for it. I went out for some milk and bread, pushing/being pulled by my new friend, then walking the long way home to put some miles on it.
Last night, oblivious to what barriers I might encounter, I went to a meeting via the subway, folding and carrying the walker where necessary, happily taking the offered subway seat, then walking the several blocks from St. Clair station.
I am easing into it. There are walks which I can easily do without help, so it may surprise people when on other occasions I present with the walker.
It helps me walk. It gives me confidence. Why would I worry about what anyone thinks about me using it.