My Surrey will trundle again

GBL Wheelchairs came today and collected my (t)rusty wheelchair. I will admit that I was far from optimistic when I saw her being rolled down the path to the gaping maws of the van that had come to take her away. I was sure I had seen the last of her.

But then later on I got a call from Liam, the nice young lad who has always looked after my trundler. The bad news ... the control box was a goner. Well, no surprise there as I had more or less realised that was the problem. But then the darling lad made my heart sing. They had tracked down a spare box and could fit it on and then my wheelchair could come home. We can go trundling again, the pair of us.

She'll be home Tuesday week! And yes, she has a name now. I have decided that her name is Surrey. In memory of the horse that carried Richard III during the Battle of Bosworth field. Richard Plantagenet too was a disabled individual fighting to live in an able bodied world.

Rolling Rolling Rolling

Everything hinges on my ability to remain mobile. I've no option but to put all my efforts in enabling its repair. I've called up a wheelchair company I've become acquainted with during my stint as a volunteer for ShopMobility. GBL Wheelchairs have looked after my (t)rusty wheelchair since I first got her. Replacing the control box is possibly the best way forward however GBL have told me that a replacement control box would come to between £300.00 to £500,00 provided they can find one that is.

There are a couple of things against it. Firstly, they no longer manufacture my wheelchair. Which makes kind of sense I suppose. My Nippy is small, for wheelchairs that is, which means that she can be used on public transport. She has very good maneuverability (I can turn her on a five pence piece). She has a goodly range which is essential in such a hilly area as Brighton and the brakes on her are instant. Another essential ... especially when you are trundling around in a pedestrian area with people always cutting across. Secondly, I haven't £300.00 never mind £500.00 ...

But, and here is the real value in having a decent wheelchair repair service, they may be able to fix my current control box; given that I got her dried out as soon as possible and therefore have hopefully limited the extent of the damage. It will still cost between £100.00 to £200.00 and I will just have to hope that it is closer to the £100.00 ... I've been saving up towards the time when the batteries needed to be renewed so can use that and just pray that my batteries will last just a little while longer.

Bad things come in threes

Sometimes I have to go out and yesterday was one of those days. I had to visit an office in Brighton and it wasn't accessible with my wheelchair. So I did the usual ... I parked my wheelchair as close to it as I could, I put it in neutral and put a plastic bag over the controls. The weather is rather unpredictable at the moment.

When I eventually got back to my (t)rusty wheelchair the seat was soaked through but I've had a wet bum before and survived it. What my chair did not survive this time was the fact that some idiot thought the carrier bag I had tied over the controls was there for the removing. My controls were soaked through and the chair wouldn't start.

I managed to get home by getting a wheelchair accessible taxi. I've put the chair in my wet-room with the heating on all night to hopefully dry the controls out. I've had to do that more then once. But that is it ... the controls are all dried out but the chair has had enough. So no more trundling for us. Well, not for the foreseeable future that is. What is really annoying is that these things always happen at the worst possible time.

I must attend court today as I am to be a witness. That is the first thing to worry about. I can get there but I am not sure how I am going to get to the court room as it is extremely inaccessible. Steep chairs just to get to the front door ... ah well, I'll manage somehow and pay the price when I get home. The case is scheduled for a day and a half so I will just have to hope that I will be called today and will not have to attend tomorrow as well.

Lets see what needs doing ...

1. find out whether the chair can be repaired.
2. find out how much it is going to be.

and take it from there. Once I have found out how much it is going to be I'll have to figure out how I am going to pay for it. My funds are rather stretched as I have had no income since the 28th of August thanks to ATOS but I have no choice really. Without my 'legs', I am utterly helpless. But maybe I can sell my cooker and I can find another few things I can do without. I haven't really anything of any value as such but hey hop ... Look at it this way girl. You've a chance to do a de-clutter ;-)

Brave New World!

I've had to cut back on help as I have to buy it all in. Of course I couldn't do it overnight as by law I am required to give notice. But at least I have not had to pay any outside help for the past 3 weeks.
It is a relief in some ways as it is one bill I will not have to worry about anymore. On the other hand, the lack of help has had a rather inevitable consequence.

I can't do everything that needs doing for myself. So I've started the 'avoid making a mess' strategy. I no longer sit in the front room. If I stick to only using my bedroom I won't have to worry about cleaning the front room. Okay ... there's the dust and things but if I don't use the room, I won't see it ... so that's okay.

I've also figured out that if I make a flask of coffee, it can last me all day and I can drink straight from the flask so that saves on the time I have to spend in the kitchen; as well as on the dirty dishes ;-) So now the new regime is:

I pick a time when I get up. I wake up a few times during the night due to pain but I don't get up till I see daylight. If the pain level is high, I just sit on my bed till I can stand. I go to the kitchen, feed the cat and make some toast while the kettle is boiling.

I generally have to give up here and go back to bed for a while.

I go back to the kitchen and hopefully the kettle, which has cooled down by now, is not so cool that it will take too long to boil. I grab my cold toast, poor some boiled water in the flask and rinse it out at the same time as I rinse out the saucepan from last night. Measure few spoons of instant coffee into the flask.

I have to go back to bed for a while because of the pain levels.

Generally by about 11am I will have managed to make a flask of coffee and brought it back to my bedroom to have my first hot drink of the day. I don't mind telling you that by now I am gasping for a hot drink. But at least I know I will have a hot(ish) drink till I give up on the day later on.

The rest of the day is spent keeping on eye on Freecycle (I am a moderator on our local site), sorting out bits and pieces, knitting and just waiting for the day to end. Generally around 5:30-6pm I head for the kitchen again. Luckily I have an electric tin-opener so I open a tin of soup. I have unearthed my hotplate and it has a timer, so the saucepan goes on there with the contents of the soup tin.

Pain levels send me back to bed.

So far I've managed to avoid having a bowl of hot soup. But at least I know it has warmed through thoroughly at least once before I get around to eating it. I've also discovered that eating it straight from the saucepan keeps the dirty crockery down.

The delights of trundling

We take walking about on crowded pavements and in and out of shops as a matter of course. When you think about it, it is quite an achievement that we do not experience more accidental collisions. Think about it for a moment … Churchill Square or London Road the week before kids are due to go back to school; or how about the Lanes on a sunny Saturday lunchtime. Walking on crowded pavements has become so much part of us, it is like second nature and most of us do it without having to think about it at all.

Unlike walking, doing those things in a power chair or wheelchair can be very stressful and it certainly is very tiring. You cannot quickly sidestep when the pedestrian in front of you suddenly stops in his/her tracks to look at a shop window. A wheel chair or power chair is a heavy piece of equipment and can cause immense damage so you have to be constantly aware of small children making a dash in the opposite direction from mum or dad or small dogs dragging their heels at the end of a long leash. Groups of chance met long time no see friends standing in the middle of a pavement is something you just walk around when you are on foot. In a wheelchair or power-chair it requires a tad more active planning.

I am mobility impaired and rely on a power chair to take part in normal everyday activities such as visiting friends, going shopping or taking the grandchildren to the park. I do not feel that being disabled necessarily makes me worthy of more or less consideration than any other individual going about their daily business. Essentially I view my impairment as part of who I am; just like the colour of my eyes and hair, my height, weight and the fact that my voice couldn’t carry a tune out of a burning building even if you put it in a bucket.

I am not too proud to ask for help, if and when I need it and though it does grate when total strangers suddenly offer their help, I accept that it is done from a caring impulse and thank them kindly. I have noticed that since I have been reliant on the chair for getting about that I tend to get called luv, darling and sweetheart rather more often than before; much in the way we tend to talk to children or doddering old fools really. I suppose I notice it more as I haven’t always been mobility impaired. But again, I realise that it is done with the best of intentions and I accept it is as such.

All these things and others I haven’t mentioned are part and parcel of taking an active part in community life. I accept that they will cost me somewhat more effort than the average participant because of my personal circumstances. I don’t mind, in fact I am delighted when small children stare at me in my chair. I am more than happy to smile at them, wave and even stop and talk to them about the chair and why I am in it. I don’t mind the funny one-liners, “give’s a lift luv”, “it’s alright for some” “room for a littl’n?”. Over time I have garnered a list of one-liners I can give in response.

I was rather taken aback when some lout decided to just cut in and walked right in front of my forward proceeding wheelchair. Not so much at the fact that I had to brake rather quickly ... you get used to that in a wheelchair ... but more at the level of abuse he decided to hurl at me, despite the fact that both the wheelchair and I had come to a stop at least three feet from him. Oh, and in case you are reading this … No, I don’t know who my father is but I wasn’t born a puppy so a bastard I may be but a bitch I am not: and for your information, there are certain adult activities I most certainly would not engage in on a public thoroughfare.