What Would You Do If You Could Walk?

I lost the ability to walk 22 years ago, at the age of 1o. For me, becoming completely non-ambulant happened quite unexpectedly, over the space of a couple of weeks.

Back then, there was little to no guidance or support. I didn’t have a full diagnosis and my rather nonchalant paediatric consultant wasn’t the best!

We didn’t have the Internet or social media to research and connect with others living with muscular dystrophy. And, until I reached adulthood, I didn’t know of anyone else with the same condition.

It was difficult enough leaving behind my group of primary school friends and moving on to a different middle school. I felt very lonely and was struggling to integrate, when came the added pressure of immobility.

Attending mainstream school, I was the only one with a disability amongst hundreds of physically fit, healthy, happy kids. My family and I were very much in the dark and going it alone.

Prior to this, I could only ever walk short distances – around school and home, but never steps or stairs. Then, at age 10, I suddenly found myself unable to stay on my feet, constantly covered in cuts and bruises from falling, and I didn’t know why.

Me, aged 5, in my primary school uniform

I was referred to a counsellor, but met with them no more than 3 times, as I found it utterly pointless. How was talking with a complete stranger holding a clipboard going to help me? I couldn’t walk anymore and that was that. Get on with it, Carrie.

Yes, I was stubborn and sceptical even as a child!

Me, aged 15

People often ask me if I miss it – walking. In all honesty, I tend to fob them off with a half-hearted response; “nah, not really. Moving on…”

But the truth is, my life could and would be so very different if I could walk.

I recently asked my fellow wheelies, on Instagram, what they would do if they were able to walk…

Some of these answers really made me laugh, while others are more thought-provoking.

What would I do? Run! You wouldn’t see me for dust, mate!

Me, aged 3

Walking vs Wheelchair: Accepting the Need for a Wheelchair

I was recently invited to write a guest post for the lovely SimplyEmma.

You can view my post for Emma here.


I’ve noticed a lot of discussion, within Facebook groups, around the topic of walking versus the use of a wheelchair.

Many disabled people gradually lose the ability to walk over a period of time. Often it occurs in stages: from independent mobility, to the need for walking sticks, then a frame and finally a wheelchair.

I appreciate that for the individuals affected, it is an incredibly difficult decision to make. Do I continue to walk for as long as possible, despite the struggle and restraints? Or, do I resign myself to the confines of a wheelchair?

I have noticed, from comments on social media, that this is how some view wheelchairs: objects of confinement and restriction.

On the contrary, I see my wheelchair as an essential mobility aid, removing the limitations I faced when walking for only short durations. The powered chair I now use offers me freedom and independence.

Obviously, your condition and individual circumstances determine whether or not you have the option to continue walking.

Personally, I never had a choice. I have Ullrich congenital muscular dystrophy and lost the ability to walk quite abruptly at the age of 10. Not that I could walk very well or very far up to that point.

Nevertheless, the choice was taken from me. I had reached a stage where I literally couldn’t support my own weight. Grit and determination played no part. And so, I went from walking minimal distances whilst wearing leg splints, to using a manual wheelchair that I couldn’t self propel due to a lack of strength and joint contractures. Sticks and frames were of no use to me whatsoever.

It was a difficult transition, of course. But not totally unexpected. As a child, I was offered little assurance of how my condition would progress. Doctors simply didn’t know. They couldn’t tell me if I would maintain my ability to walk or not. It was a case of, wait and see; roll with the punches. So that’s what I did.

To be honest, I was to a large extent relieved to be using a wheelchair, despite the fact I was dependant on others to manoeuvre me around. Even just a few small steps was a huge feat and physically laborious. That in itself was disabling me.

Committing to a wheelchair full time meant that I was free to roam with my peers. Kids at school used to squabble over whose turn it was to push me around. I was no longer exhausted, battling to stay on my feet or falling over and injuring myself. Being non-ambulant, I no longer had to wear those unsightly leg splints, which pleased me no end!

I had recently started middle school and, within a matter of a few weeks, I found myself completely unable to weight-bear.

However, less than twelve-months later, I was fortunate enough to benefit from my first powered wheelchair. I can’t emphasise enough how much of a difference this made to my life.

I could zip around at break times with friends, I could take myself wherever I wanted to go without the need for assistance, and I could venture into the local countryside. I was no longer confined!

It’s been eighteen years since I took my last footstep. And, I can honestly say I don’t miss walking. Naturally, I wish I could stand, walk and run ‘normally’. But I would never trade my wheelchair for my old leg splints, the bumps and bruises from falling so often, and the constant exertion to achieve a few small steps.

Not that I have a choice.