I am snowbound. I have been stuck inside the house for days. And now I understand how people can die at home in bad weather. I'm fearful of pavements. I'm alarmed by ice. My wheels spin in the snow and I go nowhere. I went out to the car yesterday and got stuck. I'd thought that if I lifted my front casters off and balanced on my back wheels, I'd be fine. But a combination of poor back-wheel balance and deep snow left me trapped. I'd still be there if my daughter hadn't wondered where I was.
It's given me a deeper sense of the implications of being paralysed. This is the most disabled I've felt for a long time. I'm trapped by the weather and appreciate why people who are unsteady on their legs are reluctant to leave their homes. And I'm struck by how easy it would be to freeze to death: a slip when walking to the car, falling... It's so cold I don't think I'd last long in the snow. And because I can't safely get to the car, let alone further, my horizons have collapsed to the four walls around me.
The cold takes me back to basic needs: the need to stay warm and sheltered. I just want to stay in bed with my three duvets and read. I wonder how wheelchair users in cold countries cope. The kids are thrilled that their schools have been closed. I don't share their enthusiasm. Snow should be about playing and fun and snowball fights and sledging and excitement. Being a (literally) sitting target in a snowball fight loses its appeal after a while. I've lost the joy that comes with the cold. I simply want to hibernate.
