Today I tell of just one of those little horror stories we don’t usually think about. We don’t need to. And Tesco obviously haven’t.

If you are reading this there is every chance you know my son’s story, how he is fighting his way back to life, struggling to deal with the shifted perspective of life in a wheelchair and damaged self-confidence.You will have realised the uphill struggle we have had so far, and how desperately we have fought for every shred of normality regained.

So you can imagine, as you have followed his story that I was really pleased when, after a visit to the dentist, he agreed to call at Tesco with me. He will usually wait in the car, so it is a rare thing for him to be seen in public.

As it was heaving down with rain today and getting the wheelchair out of the car difficult at the best of times, I dived into the store to use one of their wheelchairs.

The strident anti-theft alarm went off as I and others went through the door and I heard the security guard say not to worry about it.

However, it went off again as we entered the store, all eyes turning to Nick as we did so. The security guard simply grinned. I wouldn’t have expected understanding.

By now we are inside the store. I asked the guard what the problem was, and he informed me that they have fitted alarm triggers to the wheelchairs so they cannot be stolen!

Now, bear in mind these wheelchairs are provided for people who cannot walk, or walk far, so it is inevitable that they will have to be taken into the car park and wheeled back inside to the shrilling of the theft alarm.

They may be used by people, like my son, coming to terms with appalling injuries. Or elderly people, perhaps with a heart condition… or people with mental health problems, quite easily exacerbated by the shock of the alarm going off……

Now, I may be wrong, of course, but the metal they are made from is similar stuff to the trolleys… which do not set off the alarm. They, it appears, are controlled by the electronic perimeter of the store which lets people wander in and out of the store all day without the alarm being activated. Take them beyond the electronic perimeter sensors and the wheels simply lock, quietly, with no fuss, no-one turning round to stare accusingly, no one wondering if you are stealing….

Of course, it would be impossible to stop anyone stealing a wheelchair if they chose to… no-one actually stops the wheelchairs being taken in and out of the store…though unless they are folding chairs (which a simple strut would prevent from being folded…) they won’t fit in a car.

We had the further indignity of having all the alarms go off while I wheeled Nick back out to the car… and get again as I returned the wheelchair. I could, of course, have left it outside, but that would simply have been unfair on anyone else who needs to use it.

The customer service desk was unable to help. It is not, after all, their fault. And I will put the smirk down to embarrassment. They gave me the customer service phone number… a call centre where one sits on hold, by this time livid. The nice young chap was just a call centre assistant, but he did pass me to his team leader… who also cannot provide an answer as to why the alarm triggers have been fitted, nor does he ‘totally understand how my son feels’.

The only answer I have had so far is that the store has to protect its property.  And quite obviously, it is far more important not to frighten and embarrass the trolleys, which is why the protection system on them is silent.

I would have thought that protecting their customers was of slightly more importance, and as a carer, I am well aware of the damage that has now been done to my son’s fragile self-confidence, let alone the very real risk to the lives of frail and susceptible wheelchair users.

I am told that Tesco will ‘look into it’. I hope they do so rapidly before any more damage is done, or before they are sued for discrimination against the disabled or worse.

Meantime, the damage is done where my son is concerned and the gods alone know when I will get him back out into the community, doing something supposedly safe like shopping again.

As he said, the alarms might have been screaming ‘look at me, I’m disabled.’

Thanks Tesco…