I GET very dizzy halfway up the stairs. I stop, hold on to the banister and pause a few moments – then off I go like an old tortoise until I get to the top. It’s a humbling experience that requires a further few minutes on the side of the bed recovering.

But it’s not just climbing stairs that’s causing the breathless panting and dizzy spells now – it happens at potato number four when peeling.

So, I was sent to a clinic to be assessed for oxygen supplies as my next new potential prescription.

I imagined being wired up and being set the task of briskly walking the treadmill but it would be more apt just asking me to walk the plank.

The test was a wired-up walk along a flat NHS hospital corridor and sure enough the evidence was there – I swerved and wobbled as the oxygen gases in my blood took a dip. I wasn’t getting enough oxygen in.

On a repeat performance, only this time with an oxygen supply attached, there was no swerving and I was able to chat to the specialist nurse all the way to the fire extinguisher and back about her love of super-bike racing and my experience many years ago with some pals at Shawfield speedway.

The conclusion was clear: I would benefit from an oxygen supply in the house.

It will help when climbing the stairs, I was told, but I am thinking rapidly here about the weight of one of those big steel cylinders humped over my shoulder.

Well, I couldn’t get one of those even if it was practical. There’s a worldwide shortage of them and also of the new, lighter aluminium ones which still weigh a fair bit.

However, the nurse explained that the NHS has a plentiful supply of plug-in oxygen-making machines that come with small, plastic refillable bottles. These small bottles attach through plastic tubing into the patient’s nose and feed oxygen on demand.

I turned in my chair to see a machine that is roughly the size of a stunted Dalek – with tubes, valves, wires and a plastic oxygen bottle that resembles the flagons cidermakers use for their scrumpy.

I’m not sure why suddenly this machine has brought tears to my eyes. But it did. Has it come to this? Such a big machine to fit in my living room beside the wheelchair and everything else.

I have come to terms with things now. It didn’t take more than a few reassuring words from Laura that this is a brilliant helping hand that will help keep me steady and mobile.

The oxygen machine is now fitted and part of my continually changing daily life.

Ally McLaws is a freelance specialist in writing, business marketing and reputation management. See the full range of services on offer and back issues of this column at www.mclawsconsultancy.com