So which am I?

I can' t move from where I'm sat just now.  It's where I stopped when I got in and the batteries for my legs haven't recharged yet.  When this happens, which is more and more often these days, I have to wonder whether I'm stupid and stubborn or determined and plucky.  I suspect I'm stupid and stubborn, but I'll make believe the nicer options are true.

What did I do?  I walked three quarters of a mile but had to stop and stand in a queue half way through.  Standing still for me is actually worse than walking for bringing on power failures and collapses.  Put standing still neatly in the middle of a reasonable walk and I'm finished.

I had to send off yet more forms and made the trek to the post office.  Yes, I'd refused offers to do it for me, but I'm only too aware that the less I do, the less I'll be able to do.  It's not entirely stubbornness - it's also common sense.  So I put on my hiking boots for the nice, sturdy support they provide (I've had more sprained ankles than seems reasonable and if I click one, I just fall) and a fair to middling weather jacket then away I went, letter and purse in hand. 

If I were to actually chart the distance with one of those wheel things they have in schools (I forget the name), I probably went twice as far with all the lurching off to the side and coming back to centre.  Another thing of which I'm only too aware is that people on the street think I'm drunk.  More on that later.  The distance I walk from point A to point B is usually lengthened by a wide, meandering sine wave pattern and compensating for the loss of balance at the crest of each wave is every muscle in my core, straining to hold up what my brain can't quite co-ordinate.  It's hard work and it gets harder year by year.

When I got to the post office, my right leg now really being berated for its lack of co-operation, I think I swore out loud and visibly deflated at the sight of a queue.  It's dole day, so everyone that wasn't cashing a giro apparently waited until this afternoon to go along for their various reasons.  I stood there, supporting myself against the fixtures for as long as I could then had to stand under my own power as I neared the front.  This was the bit that sapped the remaining main battery.

I think it took about 30 seconds to do what I needed to do then off I staggered for the journey back.  With every step, the backup battery glitched and drained until I thought I wasn't going to make it.  I just fixed my eyes on the shop where everyone knows me and willed myself on.  In the doorway, some woman stood there talking to her friend blocking everyone else off with a pushchair large enough for three kids but carrying only one.  I fell against the door jamb and evidently grunted because she realised and apologised then got out of the way.  I got one foot over the tiny ledge but had to push against the wall to get the other moving again.  Spilling into the shop, it was obvious I wasn't doing well and I know I could have asked for a chair but I wandered round, shuffling my feet on the nice, smooth floor which took some of the strain off the backup battery for a few minutes. 

My spine was trying to jack-knife first one way then the other, finally settling on forwards.  Forwards is preferable really.  Backwards means impending fall and cracking of head against floor/obstructions.  Sideways means crumple to the ground and wait there for a while.  Forwards means might just make it at a lurch.  I shoved my fist into the small of my back to force my spine back into the right shape and made it to the counter.  What's really odd is that with a bag in my hand containing some tinned veg, I was able to compensate better - must be something to do with pathways used to handle the weight of the bag - and I was a bit more upright to get home.  The gate gave me something to push against to get my feet up the step from the path (thank you Gateshead Council for putting that step in when I said absolutely no) and then the inner wall of the house gave me something to pull against to get in.  I've been sat here on the sofa ever since and still wouldn't trust my legs, or rather the mid section of my spine, to enable me to stand.

So when I complain about having to walk to the post office, you might have some idea of what it means for me.  I'm not being dramatic.  I've understated most of it.  There's no pain, but the lack of feeling is the root of the problem.  The nerve signals do not get through and I don't know when or if this is going to hit at any given moment.  Walking and standing, especially in combination, are virtually guaranteed to trigger it nowadays.  So was I stupid, stubborn, determined, plucky, all or non of the above?  I got there.  I did what I had to do.  I can probably do nothing else but sit here and read or write for the rest of the day, so it looks like a long day in the making.  But I did it and that, for me, is an achievement.  Do I give myself  a pat on the back (that I won't feel), or do I give myself a slap in the face (which I'll not only feel but be quite angry about)?