I’ve progressed to a walking stick. It’s rather comfortable in my hand and far more portable and easy to manoeuvre than a wheelie walker. It feels more like a friend and accomplice than an appendage.

This weekend I took it for a walk out of the car and onto a seat where we could watch the waves together. It was a tennous wobble at first, as I was a bit unsteady with my balance. Yet I am growing in confidence on every outing and we even walked down to the third tree on the left hand side of the street together afterwards.

In honour of my new friend, I drew its shape. It is an elegant creature of black plastic, with a distinctive hammer type head. Smooth and shiny. I drew it vertical and horizontal as a pattern motif, adding a frame to show its newfound importance in my life.

While I have yet to embellish my movements with swirls around a lampost aka Fred Astaire style, I think this stick adds a jaunty touch to my shadow profile. It stands to attention awaiting my hand to animate it, as I too am animated by its reassuring presence.

In a few days time I will say goodbye forever to my hired wheelie walker as I progress through the stages of walking aided to unaided. Each day another goalpost slowly reached, each day I venture into the land of hope on the horizon.

I visualise all the repetitive exercises I do during the day within the shape of my walking stick handle. Round and round my pen traces this journey of recovery, each day another line, another set of exercises, a little less pain, a little more confidence.

From shadow self to forms and empty spaces. There is plenty of room to dream…