Breakfast today was a bit of an ordeal – things often are when I need to go somewhere new – but things ultimately ended well. I think I’ve mentioned here before that I currently don’t have a PA on Wednesday mornings, so I have to get myself dressed and breakfasted. It isn’t such a big deal: after a few minutes of struggling to get my shoes and socks on, I usually just pop to a local coffee shop.

Until recently, I used to go to costa up in Eltham. A couple of weeks ago, though, I was there with John when, towards the end of our visit, one of the staff members pulled him aside and told him that they didn’t like me coming there alone because of the way I sometimes choked slightly on my food. The way in which the lady spoke to John rather than directly to me, together with the implication that I am too messy or repugnant to not have someone looking after me, pissed me off to be honest, and I resolved not to go there again.

Fortunately this morning I remembered there is a Starbucks in Kidbrooke, just a few minutes’ trundle from my flat, so I set off there instead. Kidbrooke is one of those newly gentrified, stylish areas which seem to be springing up all over London. I had never been there before, but there was always the alternative of just buying some doughnuts from the Sainsbury’s next door. Going in, I felt strangely apprehensive and a little self-conscious: getting people whom I’ve never met before to understand what I need and want can be a bit difficult; even getting them to twig that I communicate by typing into my Ipad can take a few minutes. Today, though, hungry as I was, I persevered, selecting the toastie I wanted for breakfast and giving it to the guy at the check-out. I thought it was important that I didn’t make a mess or anything, and to give the right impression, given that I would probably want to go back there.

It was only after I’d found a table and got out of my powerchair that I started to relax a bit. The only problem was, when it came, the toastie was baking hot, dripping in melted cheese, and not easy for me to pick up: I could see it going everywhere, and getting a repeat of what happened in Costa. Whenever I need to feed myself in public I start to feel self-conscious, as though everyone is looking at me like some disgusting monster.

Today, however, that turned out to be entirely paranoia. In the end, I managed to eat my breakfast without a problem. After the usual initial hesitation, the staff turned out to be friendly and helpful. The coffee may have tasted a little different to the stuff I’m used to, but that was probably just down to the beans they use. Thus, given it’s so close, it now looks like I have a new place for breakfast.