You’re thirsty, aren’t you?

Years ago Pete and I used to play this game where we’d try to make the other person more thirsty. Whoever caved had to go get the drink.

Pete generally caved.

Whether he was thirstier or nicer, I don’t know. I do know that I was lazier.

In these wheelchair days I have to be more thoughtful of what I will need for a particular event.

Do I have everything everything?

Do I have alternatives?

Is it all within reach?

Can I make it in one trip?

I was always a big bag carrying type of person. I liked having all the essentials at my fingertips.

The non-mobility-challenged may not realize that the having a bag at the back/side of your wheelchair is more than convenient. It’s critical.

What takes you a minute to get could take me closer to ten if it weren’t carefully organized already

I’m still a mom. How many things in my bag are things that aren’t even for me?

I’m still thirsty. I’m still lazy. I make it work in ways my family may never have realized.

Carrying a glass of water all over the house and refilling it constantly one-handed, from a wheelchair is a giant PITA* **. It also has the side effect of making me go potty lots. Again, PITA.

I’ve learned to keep cough drops on me at all time. To the point of obsession. They keep my dry throat wet and keep me from making constant trips to the kitchen.

I should so be sponsored by Halls!

*PITA = Pain In The Ass

** It’s a real acronym, seriously! 

 

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