I Bought Myself a Wheelchair for Christmas 🎄

This year, Santa didn’t need reindeer. He just needed Prime shipping.

Drive Medical Blue Streak Folding Wheelchair

I bought myself a wheelchair for Christmas. Not because I was sad. Not because I was giving up. But because it was a good deal, it was practical, and—most importantly—it solves a very real problem: cruises and long walks that turn my legs into overcooked noodles.

Why a Wheelchair, and Why Now?

I wanted something small, lightweight, and foldable. Something that could slide into a car trunk without a wrestling match. Something that wouldn’t feel like I was bringing hospital equipment on vacation.

I found exactly that on Amazon. Reasonably priced, compact, and clearly designed for people who still want to live their lives, not just survive their errands.

Cruises were the real tipping point. Cruise ships are awesome, but they involve one key thing, especially at some ports: long piers.

This wheelchair isn’t about never walking again. It’s about walking when I want to, when I can, and rolling when my body decides to be uncooperative.

My House Is Now a Mobility Aid Showroom

Let’s take inventory, shall we?

• Regular Cane ✔️

• HurryCane ✔️

• Scooter ✔️

• Wheelchair ✔️

At this point, my house is starting to look like a mobility aid demo room at a medical conference. I half expect a salesman to pop out from behind the couch and ask if I’ve considered upgrading.

And honestly? I’m okay with that.

Each tool has a job. None of them mean defeat. They mean options.

But Don’t Worry—I Bought Something Fun Too

Because balance is important, I also bought myself a Ninja Luxe Cafe Premier.

Ninja Luxe Cafe Premier

Now I can make real espresso at home like a grown adult who has opinions about crema.

No more constantly buying Nespresso pods. No more K-cups piling up like tiny plastic regrets. Just beans, espresso, and the illusion that I have my life completely together.

There is something deeply satisfying about pressing a button and watching espresso pour out while thinking, “Yes. This was the correct decision.”

Mobility aid for the legs. Espresso machine for the soul.

Because coffee is life, and as long as I can drink it, I'm going to.

The Only Thing Missing…

Now if only Costco sold a value pack of Hurry Canes.

You know:

• One for the car

• One for the house

• One that mysteriously disappears but is definitely somewhere

I’d buy the 3-pack. Maybe even the deluxe bundle with snacks. Toss in some coffee beans while you’re at it.

This Isn’t a “Poor Me” Post

This is a “look at me being practical and still having fun” or a "Look Ma I'm being practical!" post.

Buying a wheelchair wasn’t emotional. It was logistical. It was me saying, “I want to enjoy my trips, not recover from them.” And buying an espresso machine was me saying, “I also want good coffee without a subscription model.”

Mobility aids don’t mean giving up. They mean adapting. Good coffee doesn’t fix everything—but it definitely helps.

So yeah. Merry Christmas to me. 🎁One gift rolls. One gift brews.

Both fit my life perfectly.