I had to go into town and this weekend is the Regatta, so the place is heaving. Following my Anyway, last time I was moaning about this sort of thing and it was suggested that I
- Don't stop moving. I have a habit of giving way to everyone and waiting for my path to clear. I am too damn courteous and end up stuck in the same position all day.
- Stick to the inside of the pavement, no matter what happens, no matter if someone is coming the other way towards you; don't go near the kerb. Only one stretch of road in Whitby is pedestrianised, but everyone walks in the road anyway. If a car comes along, everyone else can leap to safety, but I am stranded on the road until the next lowered kerb.
- Wherever possible, select a person who is heading in the same direction as you and stay behind them. People don't see me because I am low down, so I am constantly saying "Excuse me" and half the time having to repeat it, louder and louder.
- Use the horn (beep) on your wheelchair to get folk's attention. See above.
2. Was more difficult, because people would stop for me and stand back on the inside of the pavement. When the pavement is narrow, this means I might slip off the kerb. Once one side of the chair is gone, there's no return. There is nothing I can do about people stepping back in this direction, because nine times out of ten it is probably the most sensible thing to do.
3. This worked so long as the person I was tailing didn't stop suddenly to have a conversation or to look at something interesting (even on the middle of the very crowded bridge). One poor chap almost got his legs run into several times and was completely oblivious to my presence behind him. It's not so easy to stop suddenly and I'm much bigger than a person on foot, so I need more stopping room. Unfortunately, these crowds do not give you stopping room; if you leave a gap between you and the person in front, some other person will get in it.
4. This I just haven't got the nerve to do. It's loud and it seems impolite. I know, I'm pathetic.
Fortunately, although the numbers have increased, crowds like today are easier to deal with than the crowds a few weeks ago. Many of these people are young families and even the pensioner consistuent of today's lot seemed more with it and eager to help than the pension-age zombies a few weeks ago. Everyone seemed more alive today, so I managed to manoeuvre some pretty tight places, like the chocolate shop (I bought some chocolates for Irene who helped finish the dress) and the florist (I bought some dark pink Alstro - tigerlillies to me).
I hoped that I once home I wouldn't have to leave the house again until Tuesday, when we're off down South, but then the physiotherapy dept. phoned up and offered me an appointment on Monday afternoon. I am quite nervous about this. I asked for it because I want to do anything I can be doing to improve the condition of my muscles, but I'm kind of nervous that I can make myself understood and I'm not told to start off with a twenty-minute jog every morning.