Part 1: Our town is a series of hills. The large parking lot we use is at the bottom of a hill, and the hospital complex spreads across several blocks at the top. This is not the hospital I use, so I'm not all that familiar with it.
This afternoon, I hopped in my wheelchair, maneuvered around the potholes, did better at staying on the smooth parts of the sidewalk, and zipped right up the hill. It went much better than my last attempt. I kept on going...until the sidewalk abruptly ended. I was next to an abandoned church, and there was no one around. I look straight ahead, and I'm so high on the hill that I can't see where it goes down. It was a really scary slum area, and while I'm sitting there dumbfounded it finally occurred to me that I'm more than a little lost and need to get out of there. Yeah; I'd gone a block too far. I was supposed to turn left at one point instead of continuing on. Once the shock wore off, I laughed myself silly, but at least now I know the wheelchair can go mountain climbing!
Part 2: This was the part that has me fuming. Fortunately, I was still in a good mood from getting lost, so I did not express myself verbally with the various foul words that were running around in my head. I am not a small woman. Put me on a motorized wheelchair, and I'm even bigger. Well, apparently I was completely invisible this afternoon. I'd been sitting in front of the bank of elevators in the hospital for quite some time. I turned down 2 that stopped, because they were half full and I'm too dangerous on 4 wheels. The next one comes down, and out of nowhere came a group of middle-aged women who just walked right in front of me, filled the elevator, and never glanced my way. For the second time in half an hour, I was speechless. They never saw me. Because I was in a wheelchair.
After leaving, I did the only sensible thing. I stopped at Walmart for a new mystery, a frozen pizza, and a whole lot of chocolate.