My mobility scooter quit on me the other day.
I can walk 100 feet or so using a pair of canes, but my wheels are usually my legs. So when I turned the key and discovered those “legs” were powerless, I was stuck.
This breakdown couldn’t have happened at a worse time. My wife, Laura, had been prepping for a medical procedure, the one where the prep is worse than the exam. (If you’ve done it, you understand.) So she couldn’t take over the tasks that my multiple sclerosis forces me to do on the scooter, such as walking our dog, Toby, or making an occasional grocery trip. And I couldn’t get to our car, which is parked a five-minute walk away.
I have a backup scooter. It’s a little TravelScoot, but I keep it in the back of the car — so near, yet so far. But Laura has a rolling walker with a seat that she uses for her own mobility problems. When she felt up to it, I sat and she pushed. We retrieved my little scooter.
Searching for Mr. Fixit
But I still needed to get my Pride Go-Go LX repaired. That proved to be harder than I’d expected, even in a major metropolitan area like Washington, D.C., where we live part of the year.
My first call was to the medical supply business where I’d bought my first scooter many years ago. The good news was that the store was still in business. The bad news was that, at some point, it was gobbled up by a bigger healthcare fish. When I called the shop that’s 15 minutes away from me, I wound up speaking with someone in the Midwest. The woman who answered said they could probably fix the scooter, but then she asked if I’d bought it from them. No, not this one, I replied.
“Sorry,” she said, “we only fix scooters we’ve sold.” She had no suggestions for who might fix mine.
No problem, I thought, I’ll just call the scooter manufacturer and find one of its dealers near me. The customer service person at Pride had two suggestions, and I called them both.
The first diagnosed the problem over the phone, asked me to send the scooter’s serial number so a part could be ordered, and said a repairer could make the fix in my apartment in about 10 days.
The second gave me the same diagnosis, but then asked if I’d be interested in buying a new scooter — a slightly different Pride model — rather than repairing my old one. I was offered a good price and thought “might as well.” The scooter was delivered that evening, but it wasn’t what I needed.
One size scooter doesn’t fit all
The new scooter, the Go-Go Elite Traveller, had a narrower footrest and seemed less stable than my LX. Its battery was also slightly different, so it couldn’t be interchanged with the scooter I have in Florida, where we spend half of the year. And it had no headlight, a needed safety feature for nighttime dog walking. It was a no-sale.
But I couldn’t keep using my TravelScoot. It’s especially lightweight, making it perfect for taking on trains, boats, and planes, but that weight makes it somewhat unstable — which isn’t good when I’m leaning over while seated to pick up the little “packages” that Toby leaves during his walks.
It’s also built on aluminum tubes, rather than a solid base, so it’s hard to swing my legs on and off. Its hand brakes are like a bicycle’s, making it tough to stop on an incline, hold the brake and the leash in one hand, and pick up dog poop with the other. Its accelerator is like a motorcycle’s, located on the right handlebar, so opening a door takes a good deal of dexterity.
After four of five days of TravelScooting, I broke down and rented a sturdier scooter. It was another Pride Go-Go model, the Sport. True to its name, it was low to the ground and speedy. It had a headlight and more legroom than the scooter that’s being repaired — easy on and off. And Toby can ride in its large basket.
When my soon-to-be repaired scooter finally quits for good, the Sport is probably the one for me.
Research and ride
If you’re thinking about buying a scooter, I suggest you first window-shop online, where a ton of choices are available. Check the shape, dimension, speed, and distance you can travel on a single battery charge. If you plan to take it on trips, think about lifting it into your car. Can you separate its pieces or fold it? What’s the weight of the heaviest piece? What’s the heaviest weight it will carry?
Of course, compare prices. But then, if at all possible, try before you buy. One size doesn’t fit all.
(A version of this post first appeared as my column on the MS News Today website.)
