This week I had an appointment with my physiatrist, Dr. Hodapp. A physiatrist, or doctor who specializes in rehab medicine, is ideal for someone like me who really cannot benefit from the surgery provided by orthopedists. A very groovy specialty.

Dr. Hodapp is the only doctor I see on a regular basis, other than my primary care doctor. I've consulted with her for a little over five years and dammit, she's never been wrong. What I mean is that the first time I saw her, she could see things about my body that I couldn't see. Very scary. Very nice. Ridiculously young. And a terrific doctor. One I trust a lot.

So this visit, a follow-up to our last visit four or so months ago, was to talk, primarily about getting a new wheelchair. For those who haven't been counting the days like I have (heh), I've had my power wheelchair for just about five years. What this means is that I can put in for a new one that Medicare might consider paying for. Dr H had talked with me during that last appointment about what kind of chair she thought I needed. I thought about it. And you know, dammit, I knew she was right. Again. But, well, dammit.

A few months ago, I bought a recliner. The benefits of this are pretty wonderful. As it was designed for someone my size (and I am just under 5 feet now. I used to be around 5'5" so yes, I melted.) The chair is a pleasure to relax in and has afforded me a place to sit, other than the bed and my wheelchair, for the first time in years. Cool, yes? Indeed, cool.

What the doctor had suggested when we last met was a "tilt-in-space" wheelchair. This is far more chair than what I have now. And what I have now is pretty fancy; the back reclines. As I find sitting upright almost impossible, just the slightest adjustment helps. But that's all it does. And five years ago, we fought with Medicare about this model. And lost. While Medicare apparently agreed I needed a power wheelchair, they refused to pay for the reclining back feature because I didn't have the proper conditions. Let's not go there again.

This time, we're arguing that I need what are essentially the recliner-like features I have on, er, my recliner. Dr. Hodapp seems pretty sure that we will win this fight this time. I do need this chair. I spend my day in the wheelchair and I need help with a range of conditions, some of which are new, some new-ish, some old but still with me. I don't really want to list everything. But oh, just thinking about being able to sit in a wheelchair that lets me tilt back AND supports my legs and feet? The idea of being that comfortable while I'm out and about? I so welcome this idea.

And yet...

Sweet though this sounds...

It's bigger and bulkier than what I use now and I still have problems and crash into things. Still. A lot.

It has about the same base, which is very good, but it's more. Search on-line for "tilt in space" and see the images that show up. It will mean not only adjusting to something that takes a lot of concentration to maneuver, but will, I expect, lead to ten times the stupid, annoying, intrusive, dead-ass dumb comments about my wheelchair. It will lead to far more "speeding ticket" jokes and far more "oh gee, I wish I had one of those" unacceptably rude comments. More complete strangers will think they are somehow being charming or endearing when they talk about how lucky I am to have it, or think they have the right to ask how expensive it was.

And then there's the flat-out bitter fact that I need this wheelchair because I'm getting weaker. And I'm getting worse. And I need more help. I am finding it more difficult to stand and walk. I am fortunate to live in the 21st Century, where such things exist and are being improved on every week, or month, or year. But the fact remains that I am going to need this style of wheelchair from here on. I knew that, I know that, but still...

Pretty bitter.

Oh yeah, and my hands are a mess.