Rocket Squirrel

I get my 'new' (well, second-hand, actually) ultra-lightweight wheelchair this week. It's not quite the end to the Paralympics I wanted. I wasn't really expecting to be faced with the prospect of having to use one so much more often this year, let alone probably permanently later, Not until the Prof of neurosurgery had a word with me just a few weeks ago. Between you and me and the gatepost, I've cried a bit over it this last month.

Funny how you think you're sort of prepared, then the implications really hit home when suddenly the shades of grey start turning into plain black and white.

Still, I'm actually quite looking forward to it. Bit like being a kid getting a new bike, really. I'm getting one that doesn't look all that 'wheelchairish' and I had thoughts of jazzing it up a bit. With things like these:

(Especially as there's a ramp near home some bastard insists on blocking with their car at night, and I've had to take to the road for a hundred metres this last week or two.)

But after that closing ceremony, and all those amazing steam-punk vehicles, I reckon that's maybe a bit tame. I'm getting ideas . . .

Like maybe combined with this, so I can really snarl back at people who sneer at cripples like me or who charge ahead of me into the bus or the lift. Or park their flash four-wheel drive Audis and Mercs on corners so I can't use the dropped kerbs so I can't get onto the pavement: 

And then, there's my band of course . . .

Yay! Watch out! Rocket Squirrel is coming!