In my early 20s I made a conscious decision to start using a wheelchair when I was out in public, even though I could walk, albeit unsteadily.

There were many reasons for my choice. Using a chair stopped me being anxious about falling over. It allowed me to communicate in a more relaxed and articulate manner. And it stopped strangers thinking I was drunk or deranged.

The wheelchair acted as a recognisable symbol that I was "disabled". People got it, they didn't need to cope with ambiguity and I didn't need to respond to their uncomfortable, confused reactions.

Many people I knew were ambivalent about my decision. They saw it as a retrograde step. The value they placed on walking was greater than the value of me (and others) being comfortable. 

Over the years wheelchairs have become lighter, a bit cooler and last year I got a powered one. For the last 20 years, however, I've used a combination of walking and a "transit" wheelchair (one with small back wheels that I've walked behind pushing or sat in and propelled with my feet) in my house.

Early this year I began experiencing significant neck and shoulder pain and, in the last few weeks, lower back pain. I turn 44 in December and after talking to a few of my now middle-aged contemporaries, it seems back pain is an inevitable part of getting older. Of course, mine is exaccerbated by spasm, poor posture and a lifetime of the same.

So what to do? Traditional mindset would say, go to your GP, get x-rays, see specialists, take drugs, have surgery, risk surgery causing permanent paralysis. Deny the loss of my capacity to walk.

I'm not prepared to go down that medical route.

On Saturday I decided to use my powered wheelchair at home. I'm going down the functional diversity route. My function has changed, I'm going to accept that and respond by changing my mode of mobility. Simple ... if you don't see walking as the be all and end all. And that takes a bit of pragmatism and emotional intelligence.

So today has been the first day getting around in my power chair. I've been relatively pain-free. I've been able to get to the phone before it stops ringing. I've been able to easily and quickly answer the door. FTW* if you ask me.

Now I can get on with wondering what pragmatic functional decision I'll be making in my 60s.

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*Anyone born before 1970 and/or who is not a social media user may not know that FTW stands for For The Win. (I admit I first thought it meant F**k The World...)