I was scanning Twitter this morning when I came across a comment by Dr Amy Kavanagh @BlondeHistorian which included #AmbulatoryWheelchairUsersExist. I was intrigued, I walk without my stick in my home, walk with a stick when I need to go short distances outside and I use a scooter for long distances or shopping where I get brain tired from concentrating and multiple external stimuli. @BlondeHistorian rightly said: “just because someone uses a wheelchair doesn’t mean they can’t walk or move. Wheelchairs are mobility aids & they are used for so many different reasons! Disability is not a binary” and “Don’t whisper about us or point at us, don’t abuse or harass us. We’re using our mobility aids to make our lives better & your … judgement only makes people hide & struggle” Other people’s perceptions of me as a person with a disability have fascinated and at times horrified me. @BlondeHistorian is right: people do point, stare, talk about you in front of you, look at you and quickly look away. For people with a disability to be able to reach their full potential for a great life, we need to get over it! At airports I ask for wheelchair assist because I can’t make the distance to and from baggage drop and pick-up without help. My experiences have included being left in the wheelchair in a roped section of an airport hallway labelled with a big “DISABLED” sign and being forgotten, so I missed my flight. At the opposite end of the spectrum I’ve been assisted appropriately i.e. with only what I needed and wanted but with natural, considerate communication. Within Australia, Virgin are the best at this! On a different note, I find the reaction of little kids to me when I’ve been walking with my stick or using my mini scooter (named Scout). Toddlers in strollers look at me in amazement as if thinking: “How did you rig that? A grown up in a stroller!” Primary school aged kids are fascinated about a grown-up who’s not a grandma using a stick, they look at me like they think I’m faking. In my extended family I was always the auntie then the mad-fun great aunt that chased the kids around, invented great games or plays. With my own daughter Amy (now in her 30s) I loved introducing her to imaginative play, writing and singing. After my stroke I was bereft that I would never be ‘trusted’ to look after young ones (including possible grandchildren) again. Last month (3 years post stroke) I was in Coles supermarket using my mini scooter shopping with husband Peter. We ended up adjacent to two boys sitting in their dad’s trolley. They were saying over and over: “Once upon a time …” I said: “a bear walked into the supermarket” The kids looked shocked but joyful, and one said: ‘and ate the sausages”. His brother said: “Roarwww .. Roawww” I said “RAW?” Then the older brother completed the story and we all laughed. I love moments like this …  I’m alive and can still be me!