Doctors said she’d be grounded for life. Trikke gave her wings.
I left Zeus, my brand-new-to-me T12, unattended for an hour – just an hour – and he hacked my blog! What a naughty, creative, brilliant boy he is. While I am really quite proud of him and duly impressed by his ingenuity, I thought long and hard about it, and determined that the best disciplinary measure would be to take him to the nearest intersection and require him to hold a sign declaring his faux pas (sign-based shaming is all the rage, you know).
It may seem an extreme measure, but he is young and full of life (and mischief, it seems), and I must establish early on in our relationship that respect for personal boundaries is paramount. However, it’s good to know that when writer’s block strikes, Zeus is a capable backup! And for that I am thankful.
Ah, thankfulness – ‘tis the season. And to that end, I am infinitely thankful for my T78 and T12 Trikkes. I never knew that metal and plastic could bring such joy, give so much hope, and satisfy so many needs.
My T78, Apollo, came to me at a point in my life when I was bedridden and in constant, acute pain due to nerve damage. Joy and hope were in short supply then, and depression and agony ran unchecked. Apollo gave me mobility (I used him in lieu of a wheelchair or walker), and I began to look forward to the next “good day” when I could escape the bed again. He gave back a sense of freedom that had vanished years prior. Even with limited use, Apollo strengthened my atrophied muscles. Best yet, he gave me hope that one day I could use him as his creator intended: an exercise and recreation tool.
“I don’t make friends so easily (see also: painfully shy)”
And against all odds, that day finally, miraculously came. And I became grateful for Apollo in new ways. He gave me wings and let me fly after doctors told me I would be grounded for the rest of my days. He helped me get in better shape and lose the weight I gained after eight years of being stuck in bed. He gave me an outlet to expend much of the frustration-and-anger energy I felt as a result of becoming disabled. He gave me a chance to talk to other folks and meet Trikke-curious people (this is quite a big deal because I am painfully shy and socially awkward by nature). And he continues to help me work my way back to good health and strength while giving me great joy each time I step on his cute little platforms.
Now Zeus? He’s a handful, and I don’t know him very well yet, but I am thankful for him too. By dint of his imposing mass and the sheer force it takes to make him move, I sprout new muscle tissue each time I ride him. He challenges me to carve more efficiently, and he stretches the limits of my endurance. The benefits he offers are hard-won, but they are definitely worth it, and they make me a better, stronger person. And I am infinitely grateful for that.
But all that aside, I am so very thankful for the new friends that the sport of carving, The Sweet Spot Annex on Facebook, and this humble babble-blog have brought about. I don’t make friends so easily (see also: painfully shy), and it is an amazing thing to have the chance to meet so many friendly folks online. Each of you has brought a new and warm ray of sunshine into my life. Thank you for your friendship, your willingness to answer questions about all things Trikke, and for your support as I do my best to spread the word that having a disability just means you are “differently-able”, not “unable”.
Elise, a.k.a. The Trikke-O-Babbler