Trust me everyone: you don’t know what fear (or relief) really feel like until you’re trundling along in your powerchair, and you suddenly feel your speed dip. You haven’t gone that far, at least compared to the epic journeys you used to take, but you have felt this dip in power before and know what it means. It happened a few days ago up in Stratford. Then, you didn’t worry about it too much, only for your motors to cut out completely a few minutes later, leaving you totally stranded miles from home. In the end, after two or three hours of trying to explain to various people what is wrong and how they can help, you have no choice but to get a taxi back.

To my great relief, none of that happened today. Fortunately I was at a bus depot, from where I could get a couple of busses home. Yet all the way back I felt a constant, gut-churning fear that as soon as I got off the bus my motors would suddenly cut out again. That would have lead to at least a few hours of trying to get someone to help me get home, probably followed by a few days of trying to get the chair repaired. Thank zark this time they didn’t, and my powerchair is now charging nicely, ready for tomorrow’s trundle. But trust me, the sensation of dread that your chair could suddenly stop and refuse to turn back on, leaving you completely stranded, is nothing to be laughed at.