“You need one of those scoot around things for après foot/ankle surgery,” my friend Stacy posted on my Facebook page. Shortly thereafter, my friend Kristi attached a photo, suggesting it might be way more fun than crutching around the house. And it did look fun. The next day, our local medical supply service delivered my new getabout from Roscoe Medical, a burgundy beauty complete with adjustable everything, a lockable hand brake, and a sizeable basket. My sister Christine suggested insurance might pay for it. We’ll see. In any case, I already feel like I’ve been released from a cage!
I’ve been doing really well with the crutches
and the muscles in my arms and left leg appreciate the workout. Scooting up and down stairs on my butt also exercises my “dip” muscles and my right thigh muscles (holding my leg up the whole way), and the maneuver I have to do once I reached the top of the stairs to stand up again works my left butt cheek squat muscles. Stretching my right hammy on the back deck railing while Ranger does his business feels great, and I am perfectly in control.
But my decision to get this walking aid was finalized after I nearly tipped over two nights ago crutching to the bathroom for a 2 a.m. pee. Fortunately, I tipped against the wall and was able to finish my business without further calamity, but I knew right then it was time for a safer mode of travel around our house.
With Roscoe I can do almost as much as I can do on two legs, but it has taken some practice and everything still requires more time. Although Ranger’s water bowl splashed all over the floor while transporting it on the basket, my plant watering container worked just great. Lesson? Leave Ranger’s bowl on the floor and refill with the watering can.
Also, Roscoe doesn’t have such a great turning radius. This was probably a conscious decision on the part of the medical community so speed demons like me won’t launch ourselves over the handlebars taking corners on two wheels. As a result of this limited turning capability, I often have to lift the back wheels off the floor—remembering to keep my hand on the brake—and position them to make it through a turn. With all the twisting and turning and lifting I’m doing, I’m getting a great core workout on top of everything else. I don’t know that I’d recommend this scooter for anyone not physically capable of manhandling it to varying degrees.
And I’m really happy I spent 9 years in the Army Transportation Corps because my experience with 3-5-7-point turns and maneuvering big trucks into tight spots comes in handy when I have to visit this tiny room several times throughout the day.
The bottom line is, Roscoe has freed my hands so I can cook and clean and do laundry and …
Dagnabbit! What have I done? When I had crutches, Mike was doing those things for me. Now he knows the truth. Oh well. He still has to hoist Roscoe upstairs at night and down in the morning. And walk the dog. And pick up his poop out back. I haven’t figured out how to manage that balancing act yet and don’t plan to.
My friend Nadine told me she was going to suggest getting a knee scooter, but could visualize me flying down the street into town on it. The burden of responsibility would have been just too much for her. She knows me too well. There’s a community market off Main Street today. I wonder how many peaches I could fit in this basket . . .