Yesterday, was my Grouchy Day.
It was one of those times where I wanted to be invisible, or at the very least, hide in my quiet room with a cup of coffee or nap. I didn’t want to hear any other voice, except my own whiny one. My grating voice was quite enough to deal with, thank you.
But, we’d been waiting to get into Mom’s Pain Clinic for three weeks. By golly, nothing was going to stop me…even myself.
With a headache behind my eyes, and imaginary draggy feet, I loaded Mom into her featherweight transport wheelchair. We rolled down the ramp by my car.
Mom slid onto the passenger seat. “Ooo, it’s nice and warm from the sun.”
Mom is always cold at 84 pounds.
She raised her face, “Can we get a milkshake when we’re on the way home?”
Colder. “Uh, okay.” That’s what I deserve for giving her a milkshake after dental appointments. Now she expects a treat after ALL unpleasant experiences.
I parked the wheelchair next to the car, and opened the hatch to load it. Better get the GPS going first. Whipped out my phone…strands of hair blew across my eyes. It’s a little windy out. Should I lock the brake? The wind calmed. Nah.
My car engine kicked in, I set the GPS, and buckled up Mom. I rounded the rear of the car. The wheelchair was gone. A white sedan drifted slowly past us around the curve of the sidewalk, and there was a man carrying a trash bag dodging something.
There are other reasons for speed bumps in the middle of parking lots—wheelchair stops.
Also, wheelchair brakes are not suggestions. They’re important safety features, unless you need to get rid of your grouch.
Milkshake comin’ up, Mom.