When you are sitting down and feeling all wobbly there is usually a good reason. Blood pressure, earthquake, you’re on a boat on choppy waters, these things don’t apply when you are sitting at your bathroom sink washing your luscious locks. My bathroom is a wet room so the floor is slanted for drainage and can catch the unknowing visitor off guard, but I was wobbling a little more than the norm.
Gazing at the feet on my shower stool the answer became aware, the industrial grade mounded plastic foot had split. After twelve years of being sat on and shuffled about, the tension has become greater than the moulding can handle.
Off to the great God Google to find out if these solid feet have a posh name (they do, it is ferrules) and then to the other God eBay to find replacements. I was going to try NHS suppliers but even with VAT deducted (there’s an exemption for disabled people purchasing equipment) and the postage and packing added (which has VAT added, did you know that?) it was a mini-mortgage.
Anyway, hopefully *fingers-crossed* I won’t need to use the stool over the next week, it is my alternate means of getting up-stood from the toilet and I have to use it when I wash my hair. To be safe I ordered four ferrules, because if one is splitting the three companions are likely to as well. Hurry up Mr Postie, Tuesday cannot come soon enough.