Sometimes you just have to laugh and roll with it!

“Wow! It seems to be getting harder to wrangle this wheel chair each time I do it!”

Of course, I kept this tidbit of information to myself as I smilingly helped my friend from her house to the vehicle once again. Getting the hang of going over the thresholds and steps was the trick, but we were making it.

Truth be told, I was enjoying spending more time with my old friend even if much of our time was spent going to her physical therapy appointments. That nasty tumble she took along with the surgery that ensued has caused us to spend more time together than we have in a long time.

Our first outing to get our nails done and have lunch was pretty crazy. We were both unsure of how to maneuver around, but God blessed us.

Everywhere we went there was some kind person to lend a helping hand.

We left Anne’s wheelchair at her house after managing to get her seated in the passenger’s side and opted to let her try out her crutches. She hadn’t practiced ahead of time and almost busted it going into the restaurant.

A young man saw us having trouble and rushed in to help. He kindly assisted Anne and had her seated comfortably by the time I parked and came in. I had to grin when I noticed his abundance of body art. A few years ago, I may have unfairly judged this young man by his outward appearance. I’m so glad I’m not that person anymore.

When we finished our meal and got up to leave a young lady insisted on helping us again. Everywhere we go there is always someone to help exactly when we need it. It’s uncanny really, but we are so thankful.

Anne’s lack of mobility has given us both a little bit of a weird feeling from time to time. Today as I helped her into a wheelchair at the therapy clinic she looked at me and said, “Did you ever think we would be doing this?”

“Nope. I never saw it coming, but we got this,” I answered. “We’re gonna roll with it!” Anne and I laughed as I wheeled her across the lobby.

On the way home I stopped by the store and picked up some of those cushy insoles, some stinky sore muscle cream and a heating pad. Not exactly glamorous purchases, but I’ll have them if my leg starts to ache around bedtime. Now which one of us is it that needs therapy?

Jan Penton Miller can be reached at lilsisjan@yahoo.com.