Wheeling update

So, things have been moving a bit on the wheeling front.

1) I've started pushing myself more in my normal wheelchair, Sopwith. This has resulted in some damage to my right hand (photo below - hopefully far down enough that if you've just come to this page there is time for this warning that it's not a pretty sight!). Basically, a part of the tyre is sharp enough to cut my thumb quite a bit, but it doesn't hurt as much as it looks like it should. I've also wrapped up my left wheel's push rim in tennis grip so it is now both ridiculously bright and a bit grippier, which makes it easier for me to push with my bad hand. Instead of actually having to grip the push rim, I can now just slam my hand in the rim's general direction and hope for the best - it seems to be working so far! I am now able to push myself further distances than I could before a couple of months ago, and I can also do hills with a bit more success. I'm hoping that this improvement will also translate into my wheelchair racing sessions, where I'm just about keeping up but definitely struggle on the hills. I'm also enjoying the higher level of independence from being able to push myself. Walking even with crutches is really difficult at the moment because my left kneecap keeps slipping out of place (it is quite painful) so being able to push instead is really useful.

After about 20 minutes of pushing.

2) I've sort of convinced myself to buy a racing chair..............!
This is a big deal; they're not cheap, so I'd like to explain why I want to buy one. This is as much about me figuring out what's going on in my head as anything else, so sorry for putting it out here in the public domain, but hey if someone else sees it and also decides to treat themselves to a racing chair then it'll be worth it!

This is the model I'm getting, but there will be some variation and I haven't decided on a colour yet.

I hope that I will soon be selling my oboe, Horatio (yes, really!). I can no longer play it. My joints in my arms and my hands are too badly damaged, and the nerves going down my arms fail and cause me to drop it, which could damage the instrument and, from my own perspective, is always extremely painful. I don't want to damage the instrument (it's a beautiful thing) and I've only kept onto it this long out of sentimentality. The thing is, though, that oboes are expensive and I'm hoping that what I gain on that will cover the racing chair. I had thought that I might save the money, but to be honest there's a big part of me that wants to buy something significant with the money. This is because, until my arms decided to give up, I was on track to become a professional oboist. If you'd asked me where I thought I'd end up when I first came to Cambridge, I would have said that I planned to get my degree then go to postgrad music college and then join an orchestra and go professional. I had decided against taking up my undergrad music college offer in favour of a more academic degree at Cambridge, and my teachers at my junior conservatoire not only supported that but actually initially suggested I do the academic route first. Anyway, that life isn't an option anymore. I can't play the oboe or indeed any instrument for long enough to be a professional. I still love music and will sing and compose for as long as I can. I can even play a little bit, but I can't play it like I used to. The idea of not being able to play an instrument when that was what I expected to spend the rest of my life doing - both for the love of it and as a paying career - has taken me some time to adjust to. I'm still not sure what to think about it because now I just don't know what to do with the rest of my life. All the time that I was growing up, I was going to become a professional musician. Now that I can't do that (or at least I can't be in an orchestra) I don't know what to do. It's like having someone who was destined to become a great athlete who then loses both legs - except that in that scenario, there is still Paralympic sport. There is no musical equivalent to that; certainly not at a professional level. I have lost the career I wanted because I am physically incapable of playing my instrument. I feel that all the orchestral and instrumental work I did when I was younger have gone to nothing. I also know that this isn't really true - all music is good for the soul, and my experiences as a young oboist were really formative and helped inspire the love of music which still governs my life - but it is quite a bitter pill to take when I see the people I grew up with playing in professional orchestras. I feel as if I have failed massively, and I even resent my younger self for being a better musician than I am now (again, this isn't really true - I was definitely better at instruments then than I am now, but I know I am a wiser musician now).

One of those things oboists get touchy about.

Anyway, enough of that. Basically, I want to make sure that the money goes to something significant; something that I can use to embrace my new life. When I first thought of selling my oboe, I wondered about buying a rowing boat, but to be honest the racing chair is a slightly more practical option! To me, the oboe is a symbol of things I can no longer do. If I buy a racing chair, I have a symbol of things that I now can do that I would never have done before. Because of this, I'm now excited about selling my oboe, although there is inevitably a huge amount of regret as well - just regret that I know will never get any easier because my situation is never going to change, so better just to let it go now and make the best of the new situation. I think that a new chair is the best step I can take there. I'm now just trying to decide on the colour - but it will be something BRIGHT and CHEERY and HAPPY and POSITIVE!

and possibly something that glows in the dark.

3) I've also decided to enter some competitions, which will take place in May-July. All the more need to get training!

4) I'm gradually getting a bit more used to this whole wheeling thing. Sometimes I even get the impression I'm getting moderately proficient. For a beginner, anyway!

Right, I'm sure I was going to talk about some other stuff, but I'm now reaching my computer limit for the day so will sign off here. Cheerio.