It was like my wheelchair blew a tire. Which is, of course, impossible because my manual chair has rims that run on a solid rubber ring. But ... it sounded like I blew a tire. I was riding on a bus, going to work, trying to figure out what had happened to my chair.
I went through an inventory:
My seating hasn't changed.
The chair seems secure.
No parts seemed to have snapped or broken.
Oh my gosh. What's wrong?? The first bang might have been something that I'd mistakenly attributed to the chair but now, the crack, I heard and felt a change in the chair.
Then I went through my ride:
We were picking up lots of people, so there were lots of twists and turns.
But that happens often.
There had been no sharp stops or starts.
Then I remembered, that while daydreaming the bus took a large arc in an empty parking lot and my chair tipped a bit to the right. Normally I hold on to brace myself for turns but I hadn't been paying attention. I knew that my entire weight had been transferred onto one wheel. That must have been when it happened.
But what happ ...
I scanned as best as I could, being strapped in and all, to see what damage had been done to the wheel.
Convinced now that both serious damage had been done AND that I wouldn't know what it was until arrival I sit and did what I could. Something that would really help.
I worried more.
The catastrophies got bigger.
That done, it was time to punish the culprit (me) cause that helps to, of course.
I should have paid attention.
I shouldn't let go of the handrail when I'm riding.
I should know better I have been using the service for years.
The language of these recriminations grew a darker blue.
Finally we arrived. I got up to check the chair and the driver noticed that the rubber had slipped off the rim of my wheel. In a second it was back on, I was back in, and at work.
Worry and self blame, what productive things we do to solve problems - sheeeit, when I'm I gonna learn?