Wheels of fortune

Every morning I make a decision that has a profound effect on my day, and no, I don't mean the decision to get out of bed. I choose which wheelchair to use.

My power chair saves my energy, and it ensures that Claren gets some exercise as we roam the workplace. It also makes it easier to go visit co-workers.

But it makes me feel lazy. I have run over Claren in the power chair, too. I feel every bump I go over in the soles of my feet, the muscles of my butt, my back, my neck and my head. As the holes in my wall suggest, I tend to crash into things. And while visits are easier, the power chair makes it almost certain that I will go home with my parents. It is too heavy for people to toss in their SUV. Taxis are available but expensive.

Of course, if Buffy the Vampire Slayer showed up and asked me out, I'd get a cab. Come to think of it, though, she would be strong enough to lift the power chair and she has her mom's SUV ... I smell a destined match.

Since I am Slayer-less, I need to use my manual chair if I think or hope to go out with people without wheelchair vans. Of course, the manual chair sucks up energy, means I get exercise not Claren, tires me out, doesn't always go over bumps, makes me feel like my co-workers work in Alaska and shockingly enough does not guarantee that I will go out. It just is my option if going out my possibly be on the table.

I hate them both. Maybe tomorrow, I will just stay in bed.