Sweets & Screams

I had my first encounter with a crazy, handicap-hating, skeezy driver yesterday. For the record, I did not have my best day; I really struggled with my breathing...I may have sounded like Darth Vader at one point. I shuffled through the streets at about 0.05 km/hour.

We had spied a bakery the other day and decided to walk there to grab dessert to take with us to Carman (New Brunswick guy) and Pamela's last night. We ended up getting these mini cupcakes, which were freaking delicious:

http://prairiegirlbakery.com/

I was obviously having a hard day, but as usual, I like to pretend I'm amazing, and of course suggested to Brad that we check out the market...which he quickly rebuffed. So, there we were, crossing the street, oxygen tank trailing, when all of a sudden we hear:

HONK, HONK, HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

This ridiculous, in a hurry to go nowhere, crazy person was blasting her horn for us to sprint...and when we turned around to see if it was really happening, she did the hurry up motion.

What? Really? Seriously?

This older lady walking beside us (who looked so demure) screams:

WHAT ARE YOU HONKING AT, YOU PIG!!??!?!?!?!

Which made it so worth it.

I figure, the woman was just jealous of my O2 tank. Either that or she was in a hurry to get to an audition of Canada's Got Cranky.

Last night was such a good time. Pamela was awesome to pick us up and drive us home. Of course, when Brad hops in her car he tells her that he spent the day making the cupcakes...to which I threw in, "He's lying Pamela, I made them."

Dinner was great; she's a great cook, but Carman!! - next time it's your turn buddy. He and I agree that the low oxygen sats have caused some memory loss. So, if I forget who you are, don't get mad...okay mom? Turns out they play cards, so next time there will be some card flingin'...little do they know I am a card champ, right anyone-who-has-succumbed-to-my-mad-skills? 

Sir Wheel-A-lot (aka Brad) has an obsession with my wheelchair. It's like he turns into a little boy, the wheelchair must be too tempting for him to resist, and the result is him doing wheelies around the condo. It would really help if someone could come and give him lessons - don't tell him I said this, but....he's just not that good. Today he decided the chair needed a test run down the hallway:

We made a trip to the Eaton Centre (after Mr. Wheels-Around-The-World was finished, he pushed me in the chair). The bumps along the sidewalks are great; sweet way to loosen the clogged up lungs. There was another wheelchair dude, but we decided not to race this guy, as we can only handle one championship per month.

After procrastinating....

I finally changed my number to a Toronto one!!!

I wonder if subconsciously I put it off because I think I'll be home soon?? I'm not actually in denial...I know this wait may be a long one, but I'm still holding out hope that I'll be spending Christmas with the boys, in Nova Scotia.

After our short trip to the mall I fell into a deep sleep...sitting in a wheelchair, being pushed around, is hard work. The sharp attention I had to pay, to make sure Brad was wheeling me in a correct manner, took a toll on my energy level. Hence the nap to get it back to baseline.

When I woke, I stumbled out to the kitchen to the sight of Chef Brad.

Such a great way to end the day. Brad's cooking and a rainy walk in the park with the G-man.

Check out the sweet parking job outside our balcony: