My work week kicked off on Monday, still in part-time mode. After clocking out, I was excited to head over to a local gathering of a Facebook meetup group for ladies “of a certain age” (ahem!). It had been a while since I’d made an appearance, so I was really looking forward to catching up with everyone. The ladies were incredibly kind, welcoming me back from my absence when Dave dropped me off.
Now, I’ve come to expect a certain level of “adventure” when navigating the world in a wheelchair, and this evening was no exception. Dave dropped me off on the far right of the parking lot, from where we had to navigate to the ramp. In a move that could only be described as ironic, the accessible parking spaces were located smack-dab in the middle of the lot. To add insult to injury, the narrow walkway was further obstructed by planters. Seriously? It felt like an obstacle course designed by someone who’s never actually used a wheelchair.
Despite the initial challenge, the evening was a delight. Good company, good conversation, and plenty of laughs. I also introduced a few of the ladies to my discovery from the last gathering I attended at this location: the bathroom houses a statue of a dog, but the dog has human ears. It’s…disturbing. But the real fun began when it was time to head home. Dave was tied up at a meeting, so two of the lovely ladies, Suzanne and Jackie, volunteered to get me back. Now, these two are troopers, but they both have their own mobility issues, so this was an adventure from the get-go.
So, step one was figuring out how to get me to Suzanne’s car, which was parked on the far left of the lot. Thankfully, there was a ramp on either side, and getting into the car was surprisingly easy, even though the seat was a bit higher than I’m used to.
But the *real* adventure started when we arrived at my house. They insisted on getting me inside, completely dismissing my suggestion to just leave me out front until Dave got home. Suzanne lost the coin toss and gamely prepared to muscle me up the ramp. That’s when we discovered the fatal flaw in my homemade (and slightly less than code-compliant) ramp: its angle. If you try to push me up facing forward, my pedals jam into the wood, bringing everything to an abrupt and unceremonious halt.
In the end, Jared, the unsung hero of the evening, wheeled me backwards up the ramp, with some manual assistance from me to preserve his back. Sweet success!
As the evening wore on, it started to get later than I expected Dave to be home, so I decided to head to bed. I made it as far as the barn door to the bedroom, only to be unexpectedly thwarted. Somehow, the shower’s transfer bench had been pulled closer to the wall, preventing the barn door from opening wide enough for me to pass. So there I sat, writing this, waiting for Dave to arrive home late, tired, and cranky, so I could hit him with this new and unpleasant information right when he was planning to get ready for bed.
Finally, Dave arrived, a little surprised to see me still in the living room. After I explained my predicament, he managed to squeeze sideways through the 18-inch opening and free the door. Hooray! But since I was still up, I figured I’d chat up my hubby and ask him a burning question.
You see, earlier in the evening, the waitress came over and announced that an anonymous gentleman had bought a round for our table. Of course, everyone immediately looked at *me*, wondering if Dave was behind it. I played it coy, but let’s be honest, it sounded exactly like something he would do. He denied it, of course, but he also didn’t ask me any questions about it, further fueling my suspicions! And as Suzanne pointed out, what are the odds of some random dude walking by a table of fifty-plus-year-old ladies and thinking, “Yep, gotta get in on that!”? LOL!
So, Dave, fess up! Was it you, or was it a secret admirer with a penchant for mature women and a generous spirit? Whatever the case, it certainly made for a memorable Ladies’ Night! And a reminder that even the simplest things can turn into an adventure when you’re rolling through life.