STONE AND CANVAS©️
Nana Cook and Charlotte Madison
During my wheelchair days a very strange phenomenon occurred. Once my drivers had gingerly settled me into my chair, Rozinante, they lifted the leg supports and cautiously placed my upper legs upon them, allowing my lower legs and feet swathed in great white bandages to be safely suspended in air. At that point I was rolled about and bumped into every obstacle in sight — and these were people who loved me!
Shirley had often said in reference to G.B.’s driving, “He’s hit everything in town but people!” When G.B. took control of my wheelchair I expected the worst from him, and I was never disappointed.
Each day, for the long snowy drive to the hospital, I left home bundled into my warm fluffy ivory coat and its soft generous hood, holding a stainless steel bowl in my bandaged hands. Cowardice, exertion and medication gave me a false sense of nausea. Just in case — when away from home I always carried the round metal bowl
Nana, Morgan and I were met by staff that carefully extracted me from the back seat of the car and placed me in their wheelchair. I immediately pushed back my hood, and then not unlike my heroic knight-errant, astride my bony steed, I placed the bowl atop my head and with a momentary rush of courage, rode into battle against doctors, nurses and one particularly demonic, pregnant physiotherapist — only to escape later, exhausted — as were my protagonists.
I loved to ride in Rozinante my treasured wheelchair, and knowing the situation was temporary, I made the most of every jaunt. Two and one half months after I was blown up, Nana decided, I was malingering and it was time to walk. However she had to lock Rozinante in the car trunk in order to set me afoot once more.