I wish sometime I could believe there is a key to open everything in the universe. Well ok, make that smaller…a key to open every lock that needs unlocking, a key to lock every lock that needs locking …even smaller. A key that opens every lock, starts every car or van, by some high tech oogly boogly. Specifically my locks, my van.
So this mornng everything but the kitchen sink all packed for rehab camp, just behind the wheel…no damn key. I go back to my apartment, enlist a search party, all hunting my van key. Finally I send everyone home, and make one last tour in my wheelchair (for all of this mind). Sliding a van door closed, I spot the key, just in front of the rear tire under the van within reaching distance, and dropping distance too.
Note to self; get a lanyard, make a copy of the key too for heaven’s sake. Just like I remind myself everytime this happens, and it happens more often than I like to admit, but when you enlist your neighbours, hard not to admit it, and this is not the first time I’ve drawn attention. This search made me an hour late. I’m never late. I take so much pride in my timeliness, I don’t wear a watch. Never have.
Freud said there are no accidents. So reassessing ….. did I try to sabotage going in for rehab because I’m accustomed to my lfe in a chair, maybe I’m afraid I won’t be up to the challenge of walking again, afraid of falling. Maybe it’s like banging your head into a brick wall, because it feels so good when you stop. The adrenalin in the panic, and then the rush of relief, because as always, what I am searching for is always in the last place I look.