Now an indispensable object besides my bed,
an inseparable part of my life:
We call it The Vehicle.
I am the driver, indoors, capable of
narrow hallway manoeuvres and
in a house not built for a wheelchair user.
My originally spotless, well-maintained home
now bears scars of frequent accidents.
All doors and plasterboard walls
are defenceless against the metal parts of
the back canes, the armrests, the footplates.
Two big holes on the walls from front-on collisions.
Two parallel rows of dents and scratches look like
underground rail tracks with stations.
Even the hardwood sideboard top has deep scars.
The legs of the wooden dining table and chairs
now wear permanent straps.
Every square pillar has chiselled-off corners.
It has become my legs, giving me
freedom of movement and mobility
in an otherwise restrictive life.
Oh! Since when have I got used to using a wheelchair,
A Lightweight Manual Wheelchair. Photo by en:User:Kesafloyd. Work in Public Domain. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Lightweightwheelchair.jpg