46. Watch Out For The Bike!

Well, the wheelchair and the glove have arrived! The glove holds my fingers and thumb out in tension with small rubber bands. Fighting this resistance I can make a pinch using my thumb and forefinger. The glove came with some little foam cubes, so I have been practising my fine motor skills by stacking them. The glove looks very sci-fi, like a bionic hand or gauntlet. Can't snap my fingers yet, though. I feel very superhero. Good job I've learned from the films, and know if I'm nothing without the suit, I shouldn't have it on. It's gonna need practise.

When the new wheelchair arrived, the occupational therapists had a field day. Cyprian and Becca both tried it out, and I practised in the garden. I had thought the electric would be a big, scary Ares, god of war, but next to my acoustic, it looked squat and beetle-like. It reminded me of a little black gun dog puppy introduced to an adult in its prime. I called it Pluto. Hermes sat patiently as we scampered around with excited Pluto, a bit battle-scarred but not what you'd call old. I reassured him Pluto would just be for outdoor use, and I'd still use Hermes indoors.

The next day Cyprian and I test-drove Pluto to the shop and I bought potatoes, beans and cheese. Back at our centre, I prepared the meal myself, using a one handed workstation that I had bought. That workstation has a clamp to hold food, so you can cut it with your free hand. It's rather fun. A useful, utilitarian tool, I reminded myself, and not a toy. I also used an electric can-opener for the beans. I could then put everything in the microwave fine. It was a good way to see what I could make for myself. A simple meal, but doable. If all else fails, potato will have to be the way forward.

This bank holiday, my dad's family had a gathering in York. On Saturday, I joined in with the first part of a 10 mile walk, crushing the dirt with the electric wheelchair. I managed to go through a field and 2 kissing gates easily, with 7 children running ahead to make sure it was wheelchair accessible. I confess I prefer being pushed - it requires less concentration on making sure I'm not drifting into a child. I also find driving a bit boring (probably all the concentrating). I passed my driving test first time when I was 18. I'm not actually a bad driver, once I know what I'm doing. It's the same with the electric. Just scared I'll get distracted and run someone over.

Later, my cousin Emre pushed me all over York, with Joanna. As well as going into some bookshops, we were also impressed by the summer ambience of York in the late evening. A wheelchair does look a bit out of place though amongst shambling streets, rowdy bars, chilled-out buskers and soft sepia lighting. Our day was made when one man enjoying the night-life saw us coming and cautioned his friend, saying "watch out for the bike!"

Triplets?