In the hour it takes to get home from work, my wheelchair freezes up. Joe has to wear thick thermal gloves to handle the frame when lifting it out of the car. As it sits on the sidewalk waiting for the foot petals and the wheelchair bag to be put in place, it absorbs the very heart of winter. When I transferred from car to wheelchair, I felt like I'd sat down into a throne made of ice. I feel ice crystals forming where ice crystals should never form. As I close up the chair almost seizes up and it harder to push. The rubber on the tires is now frozen and makes a horrible creaking, groaning sound as I push myself towards the door. The cold bites at my face ... how cold is it you ask ... this is not a joke ... yesterday it was 10 degrees colder in Canada than it was on Mars. The cold from the tires eats through my gloves and my hands burn from the contact.
This is why there wasn't a blog yesterday and why there isn't one today. I have chosen the way of the 'shut in,' though that term doesn't imply choice. I could, once home and warmed up, hop onto my power chair and go out for a bit. I could. You wouldn't believe how well my power chair turns on ice. I'm a regular Patrick Chan as I spin round artistically while screaming like a child on a scary ride. Yep, I can go out, in my power chair, but I've chosen not to.
So since I've not been out and about and mixing with people and with the elements, I've struggled with something to say here on the blog. But today, or later on today, we're going out. I'm going to put on six layers on the top, three layers on the feet, and head out into the world. I always look a little like the cookie monster's homeless brother when I'm dressed like this - but hell, I like cookies.
Wish me luck as I go and explore the canals of Mars ... otherwise known as the streets of Toronto.