In Which We Take The Air

So today Jer, Connor and I went out for a walk (or wheel, depending on who you're talking about) around the apartment complex. We'll hopefully be picking up the van some time at the end of next week, but Jer is very ready to be out and about, so off we went. In the process, I made a couple of discoveries.

The first is that we no longer can just go out for a walk. We look more like a small procession-- all we need are some fancy hats and maybe a couple of camels or something. If I push Connor next to Jeremy, we take up about half of the street. Walking next to each other on the sidewalk is a no-go as it's nowhere close to wide enough, but even single file we take up the whole walk. Also because Jer is using his arms for propulsion and his wheelchair currently has the crappy indoor wheels with no traction (desperately hoping his physical therapist will order the nicer outdoor ones when he sees her), we move at sort of a sauntering pace. Impatient people in grocery stores are going to love us.

The second discovery is going to take a little more getting used to. I thought we attracted a lot of attention with just Connor in a wheelchair. I was wrong. Now when we go by a group of people, all conversation skids to a halt, people lose all pretense of minding their own business and flat-out stare at us. I'm wondering if we'll be able to get through a single day in which we go out in public during the next year without someone asking about the circumstances surrounding why there are two people in our family in wheelchairs. This is probably going to get old really, really fast. We didn't experience this phenomenon in the hospital because in hospitals, well, everyone has something going on so people don't really take any notice. You'd think I'd be used to it by now with Connor, but this takes things to a whole new level. And Jer's not exactly one for being the center of attention.

Since we'll probably be asked the "what happened" question at least fifteen times a day once we have the van and are out and about, I think we need to come up with some creative answers that we can use once we're tired of telling the truth. "Trampled by a rabid hippopotamus," is one I've come up with. Then there's "failed to outrun a grizzly bear" and "freak dueling Segway accident." Now's your chance, dear readers, to give us some more creative answers so we can avoid smacking the twenty-seventh person in Fred Meyer who asks us that question while we're trying to buy fish at the deli.

So what happened?

~Jess