The Little Cane That Went Everywhere With Me

The third time I left my cane in the car, I stood at the front door of the Fort Collins library and laughed at myself, because there was nothing else to do. Two blocks to walk, no cane, and a left leg that picks exactly that moment to remind me why I carry one. That was the week I stopped pretending that a cane I could not fold was working for me.

Here is what nobody tells you about a standard cane. It is fine in the house, where you can lean it in the same corner every day. Out in the world it becomes a piece of luggage. You prop it against the grocery cart and it slides off. You set it beside the restaurant table and walk out without it. You leave it in the car on purpose, because hauling it through the store feels like more trouble than it is worth, and then you are exactly where I was, standing outside the library with nothing to hold onto.

So I went looking for a cane that could live in my bag. The HurryCane Freedom Edition, a foldable walking cane with a T handle, is what I came home with. I wanted three things from it: it had to fold, it had to open with one hand while I was holding the car door, and it had to be sturdy enough that I did not have to think about it. I read a lot, asked my physical therapist a lot of patient questions, and then I ordered it.

The first time I folded it, I actually laughed. It folds down compact and slides into the side pocket of my purse like it was made for it. The T handle hooks over my forearm when I need both hands for the grocery cart, and the whole thing opens with a snap that takes about two seconds. That sounds like a small thing. It is not a small thing.

A year later, I can tell you the real difference. I have not left this cane in the car once. Not at the library, not at the pharmacy, not at my grandson's soccer game. It is either in my hand or in my bag, and that means it is actually there on the days I need it, including the days I was sure I would not.

I have not left this cane in the car once in a year of carrying it. It is either in my hand or in my bag, which means it is there on the days I need it.

It goes everywhere now. It rides folded in the door pocket of my 2019 Honda CR-V, so it is there whether I remember my purse or not. It comes into the library with me, hooked over my forearm when I need both hands for a stack of books. It waits on the bench at the grandkids' soccer games, and when the heat gets to me, which it does, because heat and MS are not friends, I unfold it and walk the sideline with it.

I am not going to tell you it replaces my rollator, because it does not. On a bad day, when the fatigue is heavy and my left leg is not cooperating, the cane stays folded in my purse and I use the rollator, with Penny, our beagle mix, keeping slow pace beside me. The HurryCane is not a cure for anything. It is a cane that is actually with me when I need a cane, and for me, that has been the whole ballgame.

It is not perfect, and I would not trust a review that said otherwise. The fold takes practice to do one-handed, and I dropped it in a parking lot twice before the motion got into my fingers. The T handle is comfortable, but it is not the curved handle I used for years, and my grip had to learn it. And it does not stand as neatly against a table as a standard cane, so I have learned to lay it flat or hook it over the back of a chair. Small things. Honest things.

The day it really earned its keep was last fall at the airport. We had a long walk from the parking shuttle to the gate, and I had left the rollator at home because the transport chair was folded in the back of the CR-V for Rob to grab if I flagged. Midway across the terminal I felt the familiar wobble in my left leg. I reached into my bag, unfolded the HurryCane, and kept walking. Nobody had to stop. Nobody had to help. I just kept walking, with a cane that had been in my bag the whole time.

What I'd Tell You If We Were Sitting at My Kitchen Table

If you are shopping for yourself, or for your mother, or for your person who is stubborn about asking for help, here is what I would say over coffee. The folding matters more than you think it does. A cane you can keep in your bag is a cane you will actually use, and a cane you use is a cane that keeps you out of the house and on your feet. That is the whole argument for the HurryCane, and it is a good one.

And I would say this too. No cane fixes the thing that made you need a cane. Mine does not fix my MS. It just means that on the good days and the medium days, I do not have to choose between carrying a cane and living my life. If your balance or your leg is worse than mine, talk to your physical therapist before you buy anything. Fit and safety depend on the person. I am not your physical therapist. I am just the woman who stopped leaving her cane in the car.

If you want the full picture before you decide, there is a longer review of how it has held up over time, and a side-by-side comparison with a standard cane. Read them both, then go hold one in your hands if you can. A cane is a very personal thing, and the right one is the one you will actually carry.