I keep squeaking by on my trusty Amigo scooter. For some reason the longer I go in reverse, the better it works going forward. It’s like, give it 5 and it turns into 10. So I’ve caught myself going backwards wherever I can, trying to ignore the gawking stares of that security guard at Frost bank, and that couple strolling down Houston St. I smile and try to avoid sharp corners while marveling at my dexterity with the steering. Really, going backwards is scary.
This little bit of freedom recaptured is startling. I’m thankful that I can go out and about, but at the same time I’m paranoid that my scooter will stop, never to budge again. I think, just don’t let it happen while I’m crossing a street. It’s not that I’m afraid I’ll get run down, though knowing San Antonio, it could happen. No, it’s the fact that people will stop to stare, horns will blare, and maybe then someone might come up hollering if I need any help. How mortifying.
But I have to keep going.
The VIATrans schedulers have given me horrible times for the next few days, and if I don’t want to get in trouble at work, I’ll have no choice but to use the regular bus and travel like I used to.
And the new scooter is no where near to being approved. I called to check on the status, and the lady told me she had used the wrong code. Which means getting a new authorization signed by the doctor. Which means starting over.
So my baby has to hold on a little longer. Please, hold on.