My cane is a lifeline. Yet, it’s humbling at times. I still often think of my cane as a third leg—cane, right leg, left leg, cane, right leg, left leg. I would rather be safe than sorry with a fall. But my thinking has changed in my four years post-stroke. I’ll tell you what I do with my cane if you promise not to guffaw!
First, a little background which you probably know already. Among the many types of canes, there is the straight cane with little support, an adjustable cane with two shaft segments, and a quad cane with four tips, or ferrules, offering the most stability. The most important thing with canes is that they be set at the right height for the users. But all canes can do something besides helping you walk. That’s where the guffawing might come into play.
And one time, there was a need. My friend was walking ahead, as was customary for her. A thin, middle-aged man rounded the corner we were approaching, bumped into me, like the mugger that he turned out to be, and my instinct took over. When he tried to grab my pocketbook, I hit him square in the “balls” and he took off, albeit injured. Mission accomplished!
A cane can also be useful for pushing things along the floor in order to get them to their destination. For example, the toilet tissue is stored in the back hallway. I get three or four rolls on the floor and push them to the bathroom like a herder navigating sheep. Then I sit on the toilet and get them lined up. Easy, breezy!
And you thought the cane was only for walking. Balderdash!