Zoomer Chronicles: Ramps...Buttons...Doors...

     One of the most liberating aspects of Zoomer is her capacity to go from my condominium to the YMCA's pool.  Four days a week, I start my morning by riding with Zoomer to the pool.
     Four mornings a week, I honor my right ankle.  After long discussions, and many arguments, my osteoarthritis and my right ankle won out.  No longer did she have the strength to stand by me each day.  After the dust settled, it was clear.  I needed an electric wheelchair.  I needed regular exercise to loosen osteoarthritis' hold on me--her inflamed ego.
     I swim one day a week for each month that I spent working to secure Zoomer.  I swim one hour a day to be of one mind.  I will not be fierce, and argumentative, yet, neither will I roll over and play dead.
      With Zoomer, I traveled to the YMCA.   I gave myself a birthday present.  I am known by name.  Jen, Jeannie, and Matt.  On guard, Lucy, and Collin, among others.  A fellow swimmer greeted me, "Hi, Mermaid."
      Elevated walkways--skyways--enable Zoomer and me to travel to the YMCA whatever the outside weather may be--snow, ice, wind, windchill.  During St. Paul's precious springtime, and summer, Zoomer cries to be outside.  That seemed a reasonable request.
       Ramps are common companions to stairs.  Just as stairs lead to doors--to open doors--so too should we expect of ramps to be.   On one summertime St. Paul day, I succumb to Zoomer's cries.  I pressed the door opener button, and readied myself to guide Zoomer down the ramp.
       Well...I must digress.  Minnesota does not have four seasons--it has two.  Winter, and road construction.  Particularly, a multiyear project to construct a light-rail transit system that will pass through downtown St. Paul.
      Having detoured, let me return to our journey.  Zoomer's cry, "Outside...outside....let me out...let me out..."  So, I pressed the door opener button.  So far, so good.  I positioned myself to go through the door without injury--without a nick, or crash.  Feat accomplished.  It was downhill from there on out.  Or, so I thought.  A orange-and-white striped sign made clear that I had met my match.  We needed to backtrack.  Zoomer and I needed to find another pathway.  Logic told us to turn around to go back inside the building, and traverse the skyways.  But, that was not to be.  We found no automatic door opener button on the outside door leading into the building.  Who would lead someone, raise someone's expectations of entering the building without ascending insurmountable steps?  I have yet to meet the person.
      With my first option a failure, we turned around again.  The hours of swimming--the strengthening of my left upper arm--proved quite helpful.  I re-examined the orange-and-white striped sign.  Fortunately, yellow sandbags secured the sign from a winds' power.  So, I exercised my muscle to lift the sandbag, ever so slightly, such that I could bypass the sign.
      The hijacker and I are in negotiations as to how to assert my needs without losing my inner calm.  Zoomer is grateful for my arm's strength.  I am too.