Back and Forth

Happy Easter Dear Readers!

Yes, it is indeed that time of year. That time of chocolate eggs, chocolate bunny rabbits, and glasses choc full to the brim of Jack and Coke.  Alright, possibly not that last one, although come to think of it…

Errm anyway, where was I. Oh yes, Easter. What else does Easter bring us? Well amongst other things, some of which I believe may be of some kind of religious significance, it affords us four whole days away from work! Jackpot!

The question then becomes how to fill that time and to be honest there is a plethora of useful stuff I could have been doing up to this three-quarter point in the bank holiday weekend. I have managed to squeeze in a much needed haircut, so at least the holiday has been a smidge productive but there was so much more I could have been doing; so very much more.

The reason that my ‘to do list’ has not been converted to a ‘done too list’ is, this time at least, less to do with my natural proclivity for doing nothing, and more to do with the geographical niceties of the local health services. Now I have a lot of love for our National Health Service (see Rude Health for details.) but sometimes the bureaucracy that surrounds it can be more than a little bewildering. Allow me to elucidate.

There are two main jobs that need seeing to. The first one is a few repairs to my wheelchair. I have a wobbly front wheel, a ripped cushion and spokes on the rear wheels that continuously spring loose, seemingly intent on snagging a finger or two in the process. This also necessitates yours truly repairing the errant spokes on the fly, a fiddly and time consuming job that once again means my delicate little pandies are at risk from the viciously sharp ribs. It is a recurring problem, one which means the once pristine lattice of metalwork has been bent out of all shape and now resembles one of those experiments where they give a spider drugs and laugh at their webs. (Google it. It’s a thing.)

 

The reason these repairs are proving hard to book in, is that when I moved from my native Leeds the authority that looks after my NHS wheelchair moved with me. This would be extremely handy unless, by some freak chance, I actually spend, say, 9-5 Monday to Friday, back in Leeds; which of course I do. As regular readers of the blog will know I recently started a new job back in Leeds. It’s so new to me, in fact, that I’m still in training, an important time which I was asked to ensure I attended in full. Taking an afternoon off to allow time to get home and wait out the twelve o'clock to infinity window needed for the repairman to visit (yes, it’s one of those appointments.) is therefore not really feasible.

It would be nice if the service could migrate back to Leeds. Whilst there it was never a problem for the repairmen to visit my workplace, and on occasion I could even nip to the workshop in my lunch hour. Sadly, although I asked, the answer was a resounding nuh-uh.

The second job is even easier. As part of the unique way my body is put together I suffer not only from Spina Bifida but also Pernicious Anaemia a condition that means my body has problems absorbing iron. This leads to me feeling continuously tired, lacking any kind of get up and go, and losing concentration extremely easily. There is of course a solution, one that necessitates a small but incredibly sore viitamin B12 injection every 3 months. As this was due last week and I’ve yet to to fill this errand, I’ll leave it to you to deduce where my doctors is located. Naturally enough, I can’t book ahead, can’t get home in time for a ‘late’ appointment, and can’t leave early enough for an early one.  It’s a dilly of a pickle.

Of course, of all the services I could have utilised to make sure the long weekend was spent productively, the barbers was the only one to be open at least one of the four day. It is a nice haircut mind you. As to the rest I will just have to drag my increasingly weary and broken down carcass through to the end of training and try to reappraise the situation then. Hopefully the chair survives and I can still count to ten on my fingers by that time (not that I necessarily need to do that of course.) It’s not perfect but hey, that’s life. Onwards and upwards eh?

Until next time, dear readers…