A Milestone

Yester­day, sam­bear and shad­owkatt spent much time out in the world. When they returned, they pre­sent­ed me with my first cane.

Tech­ni­cal­ly, it isn’t a cane. It’s a “walk­ing stick” or a “trekking pole” or some­thing like that. It’s made by The Walk­ing Com­pa­ny and is real­ly quite nifty. The length is incred­i­bly adjustable, and it does­n’t look “ortho­pe­dic” at all. It even has a lit­tle cara­bin­er attached.

I had said, and meant, that I was just about ready to give in and get a cane. And yes, there have been more and more times when I need­ed one lately.

They knew, how­ev­er, that I was­n’t like­ly to go get one or par­tic­i­pate in doing so. And they were in the mall, which is hell as far as I’m con­cerned. There is, how­ev­er, a store there that car­ries a nice selec­tion of The Walk­ing Com­pa­ny’s prod­ucts. Sam and I had browsed there briefly a year or so ago.

Yes, I’m using it. It’s very help­ful when I’m get­ting up, or when I need a lit­tle help catch­ing my bal­ance. It’s very light­weight. The cara­bin­er makes it easy to clip it to my belt loop when I’m wear­ing jeans. Today I did­n’t wear jeans and found the absence of belt loops rather annoy­ing. That quick­ly, huh?

Call­ing my feel­ings “mixed” is quite an under­state­ment. I’m grate­ful. I’m pissed off. I love my walk­ing stick. I hate my body.

Thank you, loves. Just ignore my pissi­ness, please—it isn’t direct­ed at you.

Cur­rent Mood: :-xcranky
Cyn is Katie's mom, Esther's Mémé, and a Support Engineer. She lives in the Atlanta area with her life partner, Rick, and their critters. She knits, does counted-thread needlework, reads, makes music, plays TTRPGs, and spends too much time online.
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