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I struggle a little trying to balance my crutches as I open the door of the taxi. The interior is warm and the distinct smell of hot chips lingers. As if confirming my senses, I see a wad of paper containing the remnants. The driver scoops it up and deposits it on the back seat. “Sorry love, just caught me at dinner time, here let me take those”. He stepped out of the car, came around and popped them in the boot. I always felt a little strange without them, they were my constant companion. My security blanket. I’d fought being confined to a wheelchair most of my adult life. My stubbornness costing me energy that I didn’t have to spare. What a day it had been, one more specialist to tick off my list. As per usual a bleak diagnosis. It was getting harder and harder to remain positive. I was really beginning to understand why my fathers sister had taken her life. I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me, it wasn’t often that I thought about giving up, today was just a bad day.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even realize we were driving. “Wait, where are we going” I asked a little confused but for some reason, not alarmed. “Where you need to be” the driver replied jovially. I sat back not feeling the need for further questions. I shut my eyes for a moment, the stress of the day taking it’s toll. I’m not sure how long they were closed, but when I opened them we were parked out side a fair ground. “Come on”, he gestured for me to get out. My crutches, I looked around for them. “You won’t be needing those”,he smiled. I opened the door expecting the usual task of hauling myself out. But I just stepped out. I looked around dismayed. Then I just started walking to the driver. No limp, no pain. No struggle. He handed me a ticket, walked back to the car and drove off. I watched the taxi disappear, yet still no fear or anxiety. It felt as though a dark cloud had been lifted, I wondered if maybe I had fallen asleep in the taxi and I was dreaming. “Hey pretty” a familiar voice called “come on over”. I couldn’t see anyone, but where did I know that voice from. I walked to the entrance and deposited the ticket in the small box. The silver turnstile clicked beckoning me. Once inside an isle of open fronted stalls greeted me, as far as I could see. A small screen showing what was inside each one. Wait that’s my high school formal. I looked behind me to another screen , my nephew, so young singing on a stage, was that the concert I missed. Another screen, then another, I walked to them effortlessly. It was like a kaleidoscope of everything I had been too unwell to take part in. “Pretty, come in here first” . Oh my God it was my first love. I ended things, refused to see him anymore. It had all become to much, foolishly I had pushed him away because I didn’t think he should have to deal with my health issues. “Please pretty, come here first, then we can share everything else together”. I dug my nails into my thigh, yep I feel that, so I guess I’m here. He ran up to me, his excitement contagious. Grabbing my hand he pulled me along, we were almost skipping, my legs, I looked down, I started to giggle, I felt so free, so normal. “Come, let’s live your life” ...