The Molehill Mountain and a New Wheelchair

I have this amazing skill of making a mole hill into a mountain. Some people do not recommend this. I, however, do this effortlessly. It's a natural born talent, I tell you.

My husband is getting a new wheelchair. We have known this for weeks. It's a process. He met with the wheelchair guy the day I was on my way to New York for the Trump interview.

In an effort to NOT be a control freak, I told him I did not need to be there for the meeting, and I trust his judgement.

I think I kind of lied.
Yeah...
Because when we were almost getting to New York, Michael and I text back-and-forth as such:
Of course, we were kidding.
Then, I did the stupidest thing.
I worried.
Then, I did the second stupidest thing.
I called him.

What followed was a good almost-hour of me interrogating the poor boy about the future chair, how it looks, how it works, how much it weighs, etc., etc., etc. I think my two co-workers in the car were getting tired of my questions, and I know my poor husband was on his last leg, and he is a very patient man!

But... I am his wife, right? Sure, a wheelchair is an important thing. It has to be safe, and practical and what not. But, as his wife, one of my supreme duties is to make sure, at all times, he looks good. It is a responsibility I take seriously, and I actually enjoy. It's why I made him get rid of a denim shirt, and why he does not own denim shorts and doesn't wear white socks with black shoes. I have a little extra duty with this wheelchair stuff. And... I was so afraid this was going to be our future:
Ack!!!!
(not green, but that does make the photo worse!)
Of course, I had Michael e-mailing me pictures as we discussed, as any control freak would do.
This sucker had me shaking my head "no" at it's name. "Invacare." Eeeewwww! That sounds so hospitaly and as we say around here, "handi-tard." I did everything I could think of to talk him out of it. But, I couldn't.

That night, after I bought my pants, of course, I totally did NOT sleep in that NYC hotel room because, my stupid self googled it again, right before bed.
I'm so dumb.
I googled almost all night long.
Knowing all the while that I was not going to be able to bring this up again after putting him through the gauntlet on the phone.

I was still uneasy about it, but I had to let it go.
He's the one who's been in a wheelchair for 16 years, not me.
So... maybe he is right.
Maybe it won't be that bad.
Maybe it won't look like we rented it at the front of Wal-Mart as I think it will...

Then... about a week later, we were out and about running across town for doctor's appointments and lunch and such, and Michael has an epiphany. All of a sudden, he's urgently trying to reach the wheelchair guy. He thinks he made a mistake. Because he noticed how I get the chair in and out of our SUV, and realizes the handi-tard chair WON'T work for us!!

I'm not gonna lie. I was crazy relieved. Invacare??? I did not want my 34 year old husband rocking some invalid-ride, ya know? I just knew anything would be better than that.

When he was on the phone with the guy, he showed me this picture on his laptop screen:
Waaaaay cooler, right!?!??!! The name is too: Quickie Q7 or something like that.
The red wheels, no. But he won't have red. (at least, I don't think so - I did not put him through the gauntlet this time)

In the end, it was a practical matter that changed his mind, not the fact that that other chair wasn't "cool looking."
But, that's okay.
My work here is done.

Soon, M will have a new ride.
As for the old chair??
We're brainstorming ways to turn it into a BEACH CHAIR.
Yeah, baby!