Chairs with Wheels.

Or wheelchairs, as they're commonly known.

i am having a seriously intense love/hate relationship with my new one. i hate it for some of the obvious reasons: it automatically makes me feel approximately 80, it's bulky and i can't get some places in it, it was expensive, it's black (so what if i want to wear brown?! ughhhhh!) and people who see me in it have two choices: accept that i am sick, less capable and very unlike how i used to be... or they can think i'm doing it for attention, because from a visual standpoint, you can't see anything wrong with me.

The reality of the situation is that my body is so invisibly rebellious that i haven't been further than a 4 block radius from my apartment since we moved in. i commonly have to sit or lay while i cook dinner to keep my blood pressure in check. i can't bend down to dig in drawers or storage boxes. And i can't walk stairs anyways cause my heartbeat skyrockets and my legs go all jellylike. Not worth it.

But today, i went to the library. i went to my very favourite tea shoppe and got an iced chai. i went to Bed, Bath, and Beyond. (Nevermind the fact that my hubster popped a front wheel out of alignment not four hours after i started using the thing, because the man can't seem to grasp the idea that a wheelchair is not an all-terrain vehicle...) 

i did stuff! And yes, the view is definitely different from a wheelchair: people are nice to you for no reason... unless they're a grumpy old person, in which case they give you the stink eye unabashedly. i try not to think too hard about what other people are thinking -- why is it that was so much easier when i was younger?