A week before my fall, my mother-in-law took a video of me walking on my crutches.
It was at my son’s fourth birthday party, where I was rushing around trying to organize a sack race. There was a lot of bouncing, hustling, and general chaos. It was not my most flattering moment.
At the time, I wasn’t thrilled to discover I’d been filmed in action. Little did I know I was starring in what would become an important piece of evidence.
In hindsight, I’m awfully glad she hit record.
Since my injury, I’ve used that video several times to show doctors and physical therapists what I could do before my mobility changed. It’s surprisingly difficult to explain how easily I once moved around on crutches to people that have only ever known me in a wheelchair.
“Two weeks before my fall, I was in Maine on a sailboat! Walking around the deck while it rocked. With waves. And morning dew. No problem!”
“One week before my fall I walked across slippery indoor pool decks and navigated the locker room showers every single day.”
“I was hiking up a rocky, 45-degree slope without even getting short of breath! My Fitbit says I walked several miles a day on crutches!”
Each declaration was met with the same blank, vaguely doubtful expression. Because disabled amputee women, on crutches and in their 40’s do not do these things. My former life required supporting documentation.
Fortunately, I now have a very short clip of video evidence.
Meanwhile, in other news, Ricky has been operating the van lift for my scooter for two years. What started as a little boy helping Mom and me giving him a task to keep him close in parking lots has turned into a genuine skill. Now that I can’t walk, he can guide an unfamiliar adult through the process of getting my scooter out of the van.
This week, he did exactly that.
At four years old, Ricky has become a scooter-lift technician, and a training supervisor.
I’m not sure what his hourly rate is, but I suspect it involves snacks. In fact, after our doctor appointment his impressed trainee upgraded the compensation package by treating both of us to lunch!
It’s funny, the things that become important after life changes unexpectedly. A video you didn’t think much of. A little boy learning how to help. Ordinary moments that turn out to be anything but ordinary.
We spend so much time thinking about what we’ll need tomorrow that we rarely recognize what we’re collecting today.
Sometimes it’s a video. Sometimes it’s a skill. Sometimes it’s a four-year-old who knows more about your van than the adult he’s training.
And sometimes, it’s someone who thinks to capture a moment you don’t yet realize you’ll want to keep.
I’m glad my mother-in-law thought to film it. Who knew that one day I’d need video evidence to convince medical professionals that I used to be considerably more mobile than a decorative throw pillow?
