From Bed to Wheels to Wheelies

* A Story That Rolls On

We’re always stuck on the play or fast-forward button. Zooming through life like we’re binge-watching a show on 2x speed. The poor rewind button? Collecting dust like that treadmill you bought in 2019.

How often do we actually revisit the same book, the same moment, just to see how far we’ve come? Rarely! And why does that even matter? Well… because we forget where we started. Like looking in the mirror every day you never notice you’ve changed unless an old photo pops up to humble you. (Thanks, Timehop.)

Life’s kind of the same. We’re on autopilot most of the time eating, working, scrolling, sleeping, repeat. But today, something hit pause for me. A story that’s always been there surrounding me, shaping me stood up metaphorically, stretched its arms, and said, “Hey, I’m worth telling.”

It’s a story of grit (not the sand-in-your-shoe kind), of pain, joy, talent, genius and of one exceptional human being. Let’s rewind to 1998 cue dramatic flashback music.

That’s when I first met my friend’s brother. He was sitting in a wheelchair, taking in everything around him with sparkling eyes and a quick wit. A short interaction but one that stuck with me.

As my friendship with his brother slowly graduated to boyfriend-turned-fiancé status (classic slow burn), the interactions with him increased. That’s when his brilliance started to shine even brighter. A whiz at tech, he could do things with computers that made the rest of us look like we were still trying to figure out the remote control. And he did it all with quiet confidence, grace, and a twinkle of mischief especially around his brother.

Though physically confined to the bed most of the time, he wasn’t bound by it. His creativity was uncontained. From his perch, he coded, painted, composed like he had some magical force field beneath him. The only thing he lacked was mobility. Everything else? Exceptionally intact.

After I married his brother and we brought him to live with us, his real journey began. Honestly, more than our new marriage, it was his unfolding adventure that left us in awe.

From learning to manage daily routines independently to gaining small freedoms like getting out of bed or bathing on his own he began ticking off milestones that many would consider minor, but for him, they were mighty. Then came a big one: his first job.

Getting ready for work was nothing short of a daily quest. Shoes were once a challenge; stylish loafers became a symbol of progress. Commuting alone with colleagues wasn’t just a change in routine it was a shift in mindset.

His spirit never faded; it only got brighter. His growth in confidence, in character, in contribution was astounding. The awards began rolling in, one by one. And just when we thought he’d peaked, he started gearing up for Round Two: higher education and a pursuit of his PhD.

We were astonished, yes but never surprised. Because we had seen what he was made of.

Today, he stands (in spirit and strength) as a shining example for anyone who believes their circumstances define their ceiling. He’s proven otherwise. He’s shown that it's not the lack of physical movement that limits us, but the lack of will.

And here’s the beautiful part:

His journey didn’t just move from bed to wheelchair. It evolved into something far greater.

He didn’t just learn to roll he learned to wheelie.

Not in the literal, acrobatic sense. But in the metaphorical, magnificent sense.

A wheelie is when you go beyond just moving you lift, you balance, you perform.

He turned survival into momentum. Struggle into triumph. And a flat path into something deeply inspiring.

I still remember his first-ever out-of-station trip with his colleagues. It wasn’t just travel it was an expedition! From hunting down a wheelchair-accessible room to navigating a washroom that didn’t feel like a booby trap, every step was an obstacle course. And for the first time, he did it all without a single family member hovering nearby like air traffic control. That trip? It wasn’t just a journey it was his first real wheelie, metaphorically speaking. And boy, did he land it like a pro stuntman on a mission.

Road trips were totally his jam but not the kind where you lounge like a pretzel, switch leg positions every five minutes, or hang your foot out the window pretending you're in a music video. Nope, our Superman had one option: leg out straight, like a knight ready for battle... minus the horse. No adjustments, no luxury of leg yoga just hours of committed statue-mode. And yet, he took on every journey like a boss navigating traffic, potholes, and life’s literal bumps with more swag than the rest of us cramped, cranky passengers combined. Gravity we engineered around, then we took to the skies.

An event compelling us to travel a thousand kilometers away triggered an excitement unparalleled to anything ever experienced before. This was new heights even in the literal sense.

While we planned and joked, and then planned and joked some more, our hearts and souls were very much aping the jelly sentiment. But we kept on a brave face lion mane style.

The D-day arrived. We headed to the airport with two trolley suitcases and a trolleyed Superman. Now, while we were decent jugglers of responsibilities and emotions, suitcases would’ve been a heavy task even for expert circus performers and we had a third wheel in the mix (the literal kind). From the airport entry to boarding, we kept our fingers crossed. However, to our surprise, everything went smoothly as if we were seasoned pros at this. We flew like eagles and landed just as gracefully.

Then came the jolt. Superman needed a cape, and he hadn’t one on him. So, he couldn’t deboard like the rest he couldn’t stand, let alone walk. (Obviously, that’s where the wheelchair came in.)

And so, the next scene unfolded: my brother-in-law and I with his ever-faithful wheelchair in a crane-like forklift, descending like royalty minus the red carpet. In that shaky lift, we wanted to sing the Tarzan song but thankfully refrained. Barely.

By the time we reached the hotel, we felt invincible as if we’d crossed a real milestone. But destiny had another round of smirks waiting.

Our return was via a smaller aircraft. This time, not only had Superman forgotten his cape again, but he also couldn’t fold his leg enough to squeeze into a tighter seat. But true to form, the man and his team (me, that is) managed that too spectacularly.

Thus, the chapter called Travel was read, lived, and thoroughly underlined.

There were many phases of life that casually introduced themselves to him without bothering to copy me on the memo. Some, I’m told, were outright crazy especially the ones he shared with his brother (but those are best kept for a separate Netflix special).

The stories I did get to witness? I held on to them like souvenirs—because we navigated quite a few terrains together, with and without his metaphorical cape. Let’s face it, Superman isn’t just the guy flying around in tights saving the planet. The real superhero? He’s the one fiercely guarding his independence, cracking a joke while doing it, and making it look like just another Tuesday.

True to his title, our Superman keeps that invisible cape flowing, his resolve revving, and his metaphorical wheelies rolling. He doesn’t need Red Bull he runs on pure grit, determination, and a sprinkle of good humour. And when life throws potholes, he doesn’t flinch. He just adjusts the wheels and rolls right over them like a boss.

Taking a cue from our wheeled Superman, maybe it’s time we all give our own super selves a good yank right out of their shriveled self-esteem and put them to work.

If a man on wheels can become a super-wheeled man and go on to pull off metaphorical wheelies with flair, surely we can drag ourselves out of bed and into the arena of action. His sheer audacity should be enough to snap us out of our whims and waiting games where we sit around for a miracle or a motivational quote to rescue us.

So, the next time you trip, fall, and feel like staying down, just remember the man who rolled from wheelchair to wheelies grinning all the way and let that image fuel your own climb. Fall, rise, roll, fly whatever it takes. But do it. Remember some people are handed fewer physical privileges, but they meet life with far more grit, gratitude and gusto.

He didn’t just go from wheels to wheelies.

He went from limitation to liberation.

And now he’s performing life on his terms.

From wheels… to will… to wow!!