So I have a hospital appointment in London. It’s a 30-minute walk to the train station and the train leaves about 10 minutes after we’re supposed to get there. So we’ve not got time to mess around.
I have a nice electric wheelchair. Check it out here.
As for the scrapes on the metal – it’s not me crashing. It’s all the tiny spaces I have to fit through. It’s the walls that are the problem, not my driving.
I leave the house. I cross the road. And as I roll over the kerb, I hear scraaape. The wheelchair shudders with every turn of the wheel. I look down.
And the front left wheel is … outside of where it’s supposed to be. (I’m not a wheelchair mechanic, so you’re not getting anything more technical than that.)
Insert whatever swear word you would like to imagine I used here.
Do you have any stories of journeys upended before they even start?
To finish up this tragic tale, here’s something totally unrelated. Did you know baby puffins are called pufflings? Click here to see the proof.
Naomi the Wordsmith 
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