I first started using a mobility scooter in 2013. It was just for long journeys, and I was really reluctant at first. Super Sarah and I were on holiday in Lanzarote and I was sitting in this beautiful sunny spot and yet all I could think of was, and excuse my bad language, same shit different prison! I had just been diagnosed with MS and had some serious mobility issues: my left leg would not cooperate and had drop foot which was destined to trip over everything in my path.

It was the first day of our holiday and Super Sarah was sneaky, in a resort I would say that 80% of the people visiting were over 60 which meant that there were one or two mobility scooters zipping about. Whilst I was distracted by my book, Super Sarah was colluding with the hotel reception to arrange for the delivery of a mobility scooter for me.

Super Sarah appeared before me with a guilty smile and a mobility scooter. At first, I didn’t know how to react: I felt slightly angry, slightly relieved and a huge amount unsure. Was I giving in to MS? Was I taking the easy way out? After a little persuasion, I was coerced into the driver seat. I was shown how to turn the mobility scooter on and which lever was forward and which was back. Five minutes later I was completely convinced this was the best thing that ever happened, and I was pretty sure the kid in me was on cloud 9.

After that, I was pretty sure Super Sarah slightly regretted her decision when I walked her all over the island. I named the mobility scooter Herbie and we became the best of friends. I was lucky at the time of my arrival on the island as the marathon was taking place that weekend which meant the government has introduced many new dips into the pavements for the wheelchair participants. I rolled round the cliff edges, I rolled around marketplaces, I rolled to watch a local percussion group, I went everywhere with Super Sarah running behind me.

Then came the day that I had to return the mobility scooter. The owner of the company arrived, collected the scooter, and I was left staring as my freedom machine rolled slowly away from me. I was standing in the hotel reception when the tears started to roll down my cheeks. Of course I was sad to lose Herbie, it was a rookie mistake to name the scooter, but most of all I had just realised that I had a long walk back to the hotel room!

As I returned home I was on a mission to find a mobility scooter. And after a kind donation from my future mother-in-law, I became the proud owner of Scoot. I no longer had to walk long distances, if it was a short walk then I could manage, my physio had taught me well, but for longer journeys I could take the mobility scooter: it wasn’t worth wasting the energy trying to drag my legs.

In about 2015, I accepted delivery of my manual wheelchair. Getting about was harder and for quick dashes to the shop it was easier to put the chair in the car than to dismantle the scooter. Slowly but surely, I used a wheelchair more and more until last year I finally accepted that I wasn’t going to walk anymore. This was a hard pill to swallow, I had tried so hard but I was just so tired.

What I didn’t expect was the sense of liberation that I felt when using a wheelchair. People think it would be the worst thing in the world to end up in a wheelchair but if you struggled to walk, and if you’re so tired and fatigued from trying so hard, it becomes your best friend. No longer did I fear face planting the floor every time a left foot caught on something, no longer would I feel my heart leap into my mouth when I tripped, no longer would I have to evaluate how much energy I needed to get from my chair to my next destination.

The next trial was that I lost the ability to stand without help. At first Super Sarah tried with all her might to lift me from chair to chair, but I am foot and half taller than she is, and she is human and I didn’t want to hurt her. We had a chat with my occupational therapist and she presented a stand aid. Let me try and describe what it looks like for you: when you see delivery drivers and they have this sort of manual forklift to lift boxes and deliver them to stores, that was what the manual standard looked like except that it carried humans. But it wasn’t long before I didn’t have the strength to pull myself up on this so we returned to the occupational therapist and she thought for a moment before suggesting an electric stand aid.

The electric stand aid is kind of a big deal in our household, it’s a godsend. This looks a bit like a hoist, I have a comfortable, material wrap around me and under my arms that attaches to the arm like branches of the stand aid. My feet are placed on a footplate at the bottom, then Super Sarah stands at the front with the remote control and lifts me to my feet. It’s not always this smooth, sometimes my legs are tricky however it has made our life so much easier.

One of the issues that I have with MS is that my left arm is quite weak now. This meant the manual wheelchair was no longer practical. I could no longer go in straight lines, every time I tried to go forward I started to veer to the left. I had some very kind colleagues at work who did some fundraising which helped me buy my first electric wheelchair. This worked really well for about a year until my body started to protest. After a chat with my physio, it became clear that I needed to visit the wheelchair service.

I very nervously waited for my appointment. Sitting in the waiting room I chewed my nails, I was expecting to have to sell my soul to find the wheelchair that would actually help me. I was lucky though, as soon as I went into the room the doctors noticed what I was struggling with and after only 20 minutes, I was prescribed a fitted electric wheelchair.

It took a few weeks for the wheelchair to reach me but we have been attached ever since. It is at the stage now where I completely forget that I have feet, I don’t use them now, the are there purely for decoration. This means that if you’re anywhere near me stand to the side, it’s for your own safety! I now have complete freedom and the no longer have to worry about falling, about how to get from A to B. For some people, a wheelchair is something to be feared, for me I was ready, I needed it and I welcomed it with open arms.