top of page
  • Writer's pictureNate Methot

Nothing Consequential


They asked me what color wheels I wanted the day I was fitted for a wheelchair. I was there at the ALS clinic, where I’d be going for years, driving around and turning circles in a sample powerchair. I’d just moved in with my parents, and finally allowed myself to surrender to the longstanding reality that I could no longer walk, well, walk safely. I was driven to the appointment by my mom, in the back seat of her Jeep because it was easier to climb into. I’d always driven us to the clinic myself, but that too had been left in the past. I entered on foot, and exited in a loaner chair, wheeled down the long hallways and through the parking lot.


The manual chair was for outings; I couldn’t see the use of a powerchair. I could walk around the house and didn’t have any way to transport it. I didn’t see myself using the behemoth. Without buying a transport vehicle―something for which I was neither mentally or financially prepared―a five-figure motorized wheelchair would be of very little use. When my physical therapist showed me pictures and asked what color plastic wheel-inserts I wanted, I thought, Could there be a more ridiculous question?!


I was being fitted for a wheelchair, and they were speaking as if preparing my permanent home, like I’d never get out. They were making sure everything fit just right; my new chair would be part of me, in their eyes. How could I possibly give a flying fuck what color the wheels are? Besides, I’m never gonna use it anyway.

51 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Trying and Failing

I've been on dating apps for almost three years, and every now and then I post hopeful episodes, but overall, it's been really fucking hard. My ongoing mantra is to keep trying, but there’s only so mu

Going to Jail Would Definitely Make My Day Worse

The following is an excerpt from my memoir, A Life Derailed: My Journey with ALS. On Wednesday night—eight hours after receiving my ALS diagnosis—I had dinner with three of my closest friends. I thoug

No Big Deal

As I looked up between awkward sips from a plastic straw that was much too big for my little cup of cappuccino, Z said, “So, I’ve never had coffee with a published author!” “Eh, it’s no big deal,” I r

Comments


bottom of page