If further proof was needed that my old life is gone forever, never to be seen again, I guess taking delivery of my brand new wheelchair seals such fate. It's been a long time coming, Occupational health ordered it back in May, apparently they have to be made to measure. I'm guessing with my lanky legs, it's also took them a while to save up for all that metal.
It's not as bad looking as I'd feared, it's all black rather than the normal health service colours of beige or silver. I've self propelled myself up and down the hallway a couple of times, the cats climbed on it to go to sleep, and now it's back in the hallway being thoroughly ignored by me.
I know in my head it's probably for the best, I spent five months stuck indoors this year, I was so ill and my mobility had become so limited. But now it's here in the flesh (so to speak,) I can't help resenting it, even the quick release wheels have failed to ignite my enthusiasm.
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