Can I Turn A Kick To The Ego Into A Hot Ride?

I went to see my neurologist at the University of Georgetown last Wednesday and, for the most part, it was actually a very productive meeting.

Since I'm still managing to trip over air a lot of the time, he sent me home with an order for a four wheeled walker with the seat thingy built in (and yes "seat thingy" is not the proper term but you're in Tracy Land now so that is what it's called) and another order for a motorized cart. While I understand that I probably, maybe, definately need these things, it's still a bit of a kick to the ego, you know? Cause there's nothing sexier than a 30 year old woman yelling at her children from her motorized cart.

Or something like this could happen, which for me is very likely:

You would just have to imagine a younger woman with great shoes and an awesome handbag instead of the purple sweater thing that woman is wearing but our facial expression would probably be the same.
My brother has already offered to put some big tires and rims on it for me. And he does have a friend who does auto painting so I could have him paint it pink and maybe put some flames on it or something. That's just a few of the advantages of living in West Virginia. People know how important it is for your vehicle to not only look good but to be prepared for any unexpected off roading trips. I'd also like a horn for it that's really loud, unlike the ones they have on the scooters at places like Target. They claim it's a horn but all it does it a tiny little "beep".

I think this one would suit me pretty well. Not only would it say "Hey, I'm a badass" when not in use, but it also claims to be extremely loud. I bet I could clear an entire department store out with one blow from this puppy.

Although, I found this picture of a walker here that might work out for me:

That thing is ready for an off road adventure anytime. And just look at those shiny rims. Honestly though, I hate this. I had a moment where, as I was sitting in the doctors office and he and my husband were talking about how badly I needed this things, and I found myself thinking "When in the hell did this become my life?" I keep hoping that this is some kind of bad, really bad, terrible, horrible, awful, realistic nightmare that I'll wake up from soon and all of this will be gone. I'll tell myself "It was just a dream" and I'll get out of bed without any pain and I'll go in the kitchen and fix my coffee and not have to take ten fricking pills and I'll go about my day the way I used to.

I guess I'm just having a "poor me" kind of day. I've never asked "Why me?" I know there's no rhyme or reason to why I got MS and I wouldn't wish it upon anyone else in the world.

I guess there are just days where I don't feel up to fighting the monster.