Stupid pot pie

I know that being cured would not solve all my problems. I know that even folks with super-powers don't live perfect lives. Green Arrow recently got kidnapped on the day of his wedding to Black Canary, replaced by a doppleganger who tried to kill Black Canary on the wedding night. (Yes, I know. Green Arrow does not have super-powers.)

But I am sure that Oliver Queen (Green Arrow's identity) never had to worry about whether he can get in a friend's house or use his friend's bathroom.

I am supposed to go to my little sister's tomorrow to watch the Super Bowl and then spend the night at my folks' house because it is near my sister's, next door in fact.

I was willing to swallow my discomfort about going to a house that is not real accessible because if I went to only accessible houses, I would go to my parents and one brother's.

But then I had a digestive issue last night that I blame on a Boston Market pot pie. Now I am really unsure whether I want to go.

And it pisses me off.

It is not enough that I have a disease that get worse as I get older. It is not enough that I can't walk.

Goddamnit.