Wheels Within Wheels

Hello dear readers!

Less than a week into my new job and I’ve already started taking time off.

No, I’m not playing hooky. I’m not swinging the lead, or any other associated metals. In fact Friday’s day off was pre-booked even before I’d signed in on Monday morn.

And of course there was a very specific reason for doing so.

Wheely Bad

I had an appointment you see. One that I was in sore need of. One that I had been waiting for for quite a while, and which I had been bumped up the waiting list for. Yes, that’s right, I had finally managed to secure an assessment for a new wheelchair.

I’ve had my issues with my current set of wheels over the last year or so as you can see here for exaple. It wasn’t the most fortuitous start to our association. A footplate dropped off about three weeks after getting my brand spanking new ‘chair and, well, things just got worse and worse from there on in, to the point where, if it were a car, it would have failed it’s MOT, been declared decidedly road un-safe and possibly taken outside and shot... twice. We Buy Any Car would almost certainly have had to change their name.

It is, however, a wheelchair (just) making the task of replacing it considerably cheaper than a car, but a little more laden with various bureaucratic niceties. I have, you see, after much prompting from family, decided to investigate the NHS Wheelchair Voucher Scheme.

Livin' La Vida Lada
Once upon a time (but not in a galaxy far, far away,) the only way to obtain a new wheelchair was to attend an assessment where you would be measured, quizzed as to your lifestyle and needs, and possibly put through your paces on a little miniature assault course to see how you dealt with things like kerbs and hills. Thankfully, although the course is a little tricky, they do go easy on the cargo nets and zip lines. At the end of this process, a recommendation would then be made, perhaps with a back up option held in reserve, and that, as they say, would be that.

The choices available are minimal, the chairs themselves fairly basic models and, as cost is obviously a factor, reliability can, on occasion, suffer. It’s like wanting a new car but the top available model being a Lada Riva.

This is where the voucher scheme comes in. The first part of the process is fairly similar, with an assessment, as to needs taking place (no assault course this time though).

After this a decision as to the type of ‘chair needed is made, a costing for a reasonable example of that type is reached, and vouchers are produced for the seated person in question to spend at a range of private suppliers. This means that, possibly with an injection of extra funds, a better model of chair should be achievable.

How Much!?!?

Now you might think that a wheelchair is a wheelchair is a wheelchair, but you would be wrong. I’ve already drawn the comparison to buying a car and the analogy holds when it comes to the models available. You can go from the mile wide monstrosities you find in hospitals, through the looks alright-ish but falls apart a lot (I.E. my current wheels), right through to sports ‘chairs with titanium frames, sloping wheels, and integrated ant-tip features. Very nice.

Then we have the really high end, the Bugatti Veyrons of the wheelchair world, like the Trekinetic K2. It’s the type of chair that belongs on a poster in a young boys bedroom, possibly between a Lamborghini and a tennis player with an itchy bum. Of course, you get nothing for nothing, and all these options have a price tag attached to them. For the Trekinetic for instance we’re starting at £3595, rising to £9495.

I’ll pause here for a second to allow those that have just fallen off there own chairs time to recover.

Admittedly that is the rarefied air of the very pinnacle of the top end, but even for a reasonably modest, but well built lightweight wheelchair we could be talking £1500 plus. For that money you’re probably looking at a choice of folding or solid frame, Aluminium construction, and possibly a chair that is at least partially made to measure. Most importantly it should definitely be robust enough to last the pace.

Inaction Man

I’m not the worlds most active person. I believe most wholeheartedly in the conservation of energy, and generally eschew sporting activities outside spectating or possibly a bit of Xbox (other consoles are available). I am however a solidly built lad, maybe carrying around a pound or two more than I should be. I also have the approximate delicacy and finesse of a frantic blindfolded elephant who’s twenty minutes late the international conference on clumsiness. Over the years I’ve injured myself more than once in the course of throwing my ‘chair up or across various obstacles... and the ‘chair hasn’t faired all that well either.

In fact, in the last 5 years I’ve gone through two wheelchairs and neither left my service in anything like a state of trade-in-ability. This next chair then needs to be solidly built, rugged, and durable above all else. Lightness of weight would also be a definite boon.

The value of the vouchers however, well that remains to be seen. Matters of style and design may therefore have to take a back sea to pure, unadulterated functionality. It’s a shame, but I know a Vayron will be out of my reach. Maybe a more modest Audi or perhaps a Beamer will be something I can go for without too much damage to the bank account, but for now all I can do is drool over the super-chairs and wait for that all important letter.

Until next time…

Thoughts? Feedback? As always any comments are more than welcome in the section below. Thanks for reading.