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Bah dum tish.

I’ve been thinking about getting a cane for some time. I am the kind of person who tends to have sensible and practical thoughts, and then spend a lot of time thinking more and more around the thoughts, and do absolutely nothing about them, which is decidedly not sensible or practical. Action: not really my thing. Possibly I really did spend too many of my formative years with my head in books, and could have benefited from that big wide world outdoors I heard so much about.

So: a cane. I had eventually decided against it: I don’t have pain in a consistent spot, and maybe having a cane would exacerbate pain, in my back or shoulders as well as in my legs. Maybe if from time to time I swapped over which hand I used it with, people would think I was faking or acting affected. It would likely cause more harm or bother than good. And with the excruciatingly slow but definitely happening physical progress I’ve been making, it was becoming less and less needful.

But now I’m thinking of the times I really do need some support; I’ve just spent several days with a pronounced limp, and a cane really would have helped. A cane would be useful in other ways, too. On a given day, I might not especially need it for walking, but it would be a useful signifier for related issues. If I needed a seat on a bus, and was worried about being denied one, a cane would hopefully do the trick.

It’d also help with that visibility thing. I do like to mess with people’s ideas of what a person in a particular identity group looks like, and a youthful, skinny lady with a cane should set people’s thoughts going in some unaccustomed directions. And, if I get any “what’s wrong with you”s, I’m not so sufficiently jaded yet that it’d be a hardship to cheerfully smack them down – I find it rather a pleasure at this juncture, really.

It’s a complicated thing, and yet another of those matters I’m overthinking. A cane might be a useful thing to have just in case.