You know how we roll.

On two wheels. On three wheels. On four.

Gabe got a new ride yesterday. The electric kind. He’s trialing a power wheelchair so he can get around of his own will. After dinner we motored around the two main buildings of Crotched Mountain, heading across the lawn in a rear-wheel drive chair that dominated grass, dirt, sand, and steep incline up to the cafeteria. Testament to nothing standing between Gabe and sugar. Really, we went to chat up our friend Leo, the chef who actually makes tasty, quality food (one wouldn’t assume so given this a hospital establishment). We enjoyed a brownie on the way.

G and I have resumed dates this week. Of course, we had the occasional occasion to attend in the last eight months–a CT scan here, a romp down to a locked bicycle there–but now we’re having dates and actually making plans to have more dates. Like the brownies we baked in the OT kitchen yesterday afternoon. And the Dinner & a Movie date two days ago. And, of course, I can’t exclude today’s High Tea in The House of the Seven Gables, followed by the romantic kiss shared in the gazebo overlooking the Wapack Mountain Range. There’s a plan that when we visit NYC later this year, we’ll relive our first date at the Met and Candle Cafe. And we’re looking forward to catching Allison’s band playing in Bangor and cruising down the streets of Belfast. Perhaps an idyllic ride on his future tandem trike?? This may sound a bit ridiculous I understand, but try going eight months under hospital arrest with the one you love. The little things, the private, self-sufficient, moments are victories.

=

Now where did I go off-course. The power wheelchair. I think it’s incredible, and for him it must be excruciatingly so. I remember there were times sitting along the Charles River last month, someone would come up from behind his manual chair, speak, laugh, pat his shoulder, and he wouldn’t have an idea of that person’s face. Or a train would pass and we’d all turn to look, but there he was, facing the Canada Geese we were just observing. The thing about Gabe’s injury is this loss of left side motor movement: it prohibits self-guided navigation and freedom to look where he wants to look, go where he wants to go. To put it simply, if he doesn’t have the use of his left arm to propel a wheel, he can’t drive a straight line and is only going to end up against the wall. Thus the need to be pushed everywhere, and controlled by where the Someone Pushing wants to go.

So this powerchair alleviates that. He is given a certain amount of free will, independence, autonomy. I already see the difference in him. His is given back the gift of mobility. And he’s a fabulous driver. Much improved than his initial trials with Kentfield PT and Spaulding PT. I’ve heard it said that one isn’t offered a powerchair until at least six months post-accident anyway, so the brain can heal. Granted he needs a certain amount of chaperoning in the coming months, but the man can be a little more on his own now. And we can relieve our backs and not worry about pushing around 278 lbs!

“All mankind is divided into three classes: those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move.”  -Benjamin Franklin.

p.s. Here’s a very informative New Hampshire video sent to us recently. Everything you need to know about this beautiful state. Gabe gives it an Emphatic Thumbs-Up.