In this small resort town, chain your walker to your wrist. It could have been stolen out of the car even, with us with 15 feet and looking the other way. I guess they are more precious then gold or something to these creeps. I have decided to post a sign on the bottom of my next walker, PLEASE DO NOT STEAL ME, with name, and phone number on it. I have a back-up walker but I LIKED THIS ONE. I want it back. A friend gave me this walker too. I was able to fit sitting on it too.
I remember giving walker to husband and saying "Here put this in the car" and thought he did, I got in. He was right next to me. Maybe he is going senile or I am going senile. I actually plan to talk to my doctor about the possibilities of the onset of dementia after all this happened. I went to take online memory tests and even the SAGE test for dementia. Someone's going senile, maybe for this giant of a screw up again. Life feels so overwhelming. The night before I was crying over our blocked up sink, I just had the leak in the closet repaired with all the mold growing from the bathtub. Our closet shares a wall with the bathtub.
I look back in the car an hour later, while we are out running our endless stupid errands, poverty makes for more of those by the way when you have to scrounge food day by day and the walker is gone. That was a mind screw beyond belief. How did something so large "disappear"? We even discussed someone stealing it out of the car. The doors were unlocked while we were outside on our apartment's property. We were distracted but next to the car.
Everyone outside with us, saw me using the walker. I was on my apartment's property too. [see other story too]
I come back and the walker is gone. A recently evicted man's unlocked bicycle is laying outside in the grass, they leave that alone, and steal my walker instead. This walker has had HEAVY use over the past two years, the wheels are even all pitted up, they are not going to get huge money for it.
It is hard to explain the feeling of helplessness and now wondering if something is cognitively wrong with me because I remember telling my husband to put it in the van's hatch back. I am crying so hard, he is scared of the neighbors seeing me and is hustling me back inside. I feel like if I do not constantly OCD check everything to death it does not get done.
I had my purse hung on my walker, so how did I end up with my purse and not my walker? I am confused.