Susan's New Walker

This whole idea of a walker seemed like a pretty good one in theory. I mean, Susan’s walking abilities were definitely impaired and she had fallen several times in the past month. In fact, we have found her on the floor twice just in the past week. So having an assist when she walked only seemed smart. But this smart idea has turned into a real thorn in the sides of everyone living under our roof, including Susan’s.

She has only had her “luxury” walker for three days now and I am ready to roll it and her out the front door. I know I shouldn’t say such things, but I know!- you try it! It all started as Susan’s skills obviously declined, causing her physical therapist to recommend a walker to keep her safe.

Not surprisingly, Susan insisted on having the best, the nicest one they could get her. Of course that meant more money. But more money never stopped Susan and the physical therapist must have caught a glimpse of that in their conversation about the walker. She advised me afterward that she thought the higher end model would work best for Susan because she was more likely to use it if she thought it was nice. I agreed.

No time was wasted and the walker arrived earlier this week. Susan liked it! It was red with a black leather seat and a basket to boot! Her own walker! We all sighed with relief because none of us felt comfortable with her tilted walking skills and off balanced grabbing onto things as she dragged that left foot around the house. This walker would likely prevent her from falling again and for that reason we all breathed a sigh of relief.

The physical therapist gave Susan a thorough lesson in using her walker, which is about as simple as it gets; just hold onto it and walk. Everything seemed under control until the therapist left and Susan attempted it on her own. What a relief, we all thought. And for Susan, how fun, after all it was a shiny new novelty to play with!


My first clue that this walker concept was going to be a problem was when I looked at the entry from Susan’s hallway and saw Susan sitting on the leather seat of her walker (which was facing backwards) with her hands clutching the hand brakes. She was looking at us in dismay as she whined about how this cheap crap wasn’t even working. It took my brain about two seconds to link up to hers and realize what she was thinking. “Mom, it is a walker- not a rider! You have to stand up and walk. It won’t take you anywhere!” “Why won’t it go? What am I doing wrong? Well, how
stupid is that if it doesn’t even work.” She protested.

In no time this shiny new thing became her enemy and all she wanted was a good place to park it up. This stirred up sour memories, of all the possessions Susan hoarded through the years. “This walker is for using, not parking!” I exclaimed. Funny thing is, she doesn’t want to park it in her room or in her way; she wants to park it in the hall blocking other people’s way to their rooms. She doesn’t care if they cannot exit in an emergency, or that they have to walk around it. No, as long as she can own it, see it, but never have to use it, she will be rather happy and comfortable. I see her old self in there somewhere.


Without doubt, everyone here is exhausted with explaining this whole walker concept to Susan for three days. She walks while dragging it behind her. She uses it as a chair in the kitchen. She awaits the power to charge on the motor so it will ride her into the lap of luxury. She sneaks around without it while making excuses that it is a pain in the neck and she will use it tomorrow. That one is wasted on me since I learned long ago that with Susan tomorrow never comes.

All of us are now practically qualified in walker therapy. Need help? Call us. I tried to relate her walker to something she could understand- a shopping cart. “When you go into Sam’s Club do you walk with your arms behind you dragging your cart where you cannot see what is in it?” I quizzed her. “At the Commissary does the grocery cart drive you around or do you have to push it along?” and “ Susan, this walker is foot powered- one foot in front of the other.” “Oh yeah?” She ponders the thought. But nothing seems to be working.

I fear that the physical therapist’s prediction yesterday that Susan likely may never learn how to use this simple contraption might be true. Especially since I found her limping around our house at one o’clock this morning. She had the whole house lit up like a Christmas tree on Christmas Eve and she was looking for her mother. No walker, just her and her bravado. Suppose she falls on one of her escapades and it is hours before we discover her? I know of no way to prevent it, although we are all desperately trying around here.