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Tag Archives: Bureaucracy

Knickers and Getting Plastered

Well dear reader …. they say with age comes wisdom … they also say there’s an exception to every rule 😬

Today was a sort of monumental day. The first go at getting to the hospital with hospital transport, and (I know, pushing my luck) getting two birds with one stone with the delightful peeps at Orthotics.

Never having used the service before I had visions of waiting ages for transport, sitting at the hospital for hours before my appointment time, the clinic running late and then waiting hours (needing a pee) for transport home.

The rule of thumb is to be ready to go about two hours before appointment time. So just before 1pm I was ceremoniously hoisted into my wheelchair, slipper socks on my feet (saves the faff of shoes), coat out the cupboard and credit card tucked into the bra (listen, if some Herbert is going to try and nab it, I’m getting some fun out of the game). Wheeled through to the lounge to wait……..ticktockticktock.

Two lovely ladies arrived and I was anchored and strapped into the back of the van for the 1.9 mile journey. The corridor at Orthotics was deserted, I mean there was no one, nothing, nowt, not even distant voices! After a short while a smart chap appeared and wheeled me to the room.

The reason I was there was for some soft foot splints to help stretch my ligaments, as now I’m off my feet they will naturally shorten and twist. He discussed options, showed me several pictures and he decided that the custom shaped would be best. This involves plaster casts on both legs from knee to tip of toes, and hands rubbing up and down the muscle as the plaster moulds and hardens. πŸ˜‹ So moulds could be made.

We also discussed my back brace. Side bar m’lud, earlier in the week I telephoned the Neuro Consult Secretary to see if the referral had been sent, to find that the system says that my December appointment he called me and there was no answer (I feckin well did! 45 minutes late but he called and we talked). I crossed my fingers that they’d get the referral done and walked the three corridors, by today, but nope. He looked at my brace and measured me and flicked through more books and had an ‘ah-ha’ moment. He said he would like to try a ‘this’ style as it supports front and back without the rigidity at the side ….. and ….. ::drumroll:: ….. I wouldn’t have to pay for it!

After that, the Orthotics Secretary wheeled me back to main reception and informed transport I was ready. Before too long the lovely ladies loaded me up and drove me back. Within a snip and a snap I was hoisted back onto my comfy sofa and it was only 3:45pm!

Maybe the reason everything went so well today was because ….. I am wearing my undies inside out 😊

 
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Posted by on March 24, 2023 in Life

 

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Bureaucratic Headaches

I feel the annoyance of things brewing up to a bubbling rant. Those of an easily offended disposition may wish to scroll on by.

There are numerous things that, to be exceedingly frank about, are f**king well pi**ing me off to a boiling a*** of steaming anger – or in other words has one mildly miffed.

Right then – the heating! So far four visits by various engineers. First was an electrician as some beep somewhere mistakenly thought it was electric heating here (nope), he concluded the wireless controller was duff. Second engineer came and concluded that the controller was likely okay it was the valves on the radiators. Third engineer came armed with hammers and valves, he clumped, bashed and clouted it into behaving and voila I had heating that was controlled by the wireless controller. Yes, sorted, that’s done. Then unexpectedly engineer returned again with orders to replace wireless controller with the upgraded one. Yeah, well, within fifteen minutes of him leaving the damn thing lost it’s connection, the radiators were boiling (at one point it was 28Β°c/82.50f). I did the take the batteries out and put them back but it still didn’t seem to control anything and it drops connection about every 15/20 minutes, so we just turned the radiator valves down to its lowest setting. You see I cannot contact these providers directly, I email person a who forwards it to rep b who gets company c to organise an engineer. Visit five being organised.

Bathroom. Back in early December a carer sat on the toilet seat lid and it cracked. All she did was lean forward to put my foot in the trouser leg and it split. It has been reported but it’s still not cracked. The cistern is a temperamental flush, the sink plug is one you push down to stay down and push to pop up except it doesn’t. The hot/cold indicator on the mixer tap is the wrong way round. The pump for the shower is slurring as slowing.

Care fees – way back way when I was first contacted about a possible flat here I had two immediate questions, can BFF stay for our holibobs together and how much is it. Reasonable enough asks, I thought. Thankfully the answer to a was yes (deffo deal breaker if no) and question b was I’ll get back to you. Eventually after numerous requests a badly photocopied brochure arrived giving pages of details about benefits and financial assessments, deferred payments with property sales, saving and investments limits etc and a line that said the fee was capped at Β£269 per week. This was the same as I was paying for current care so I could draft a possible budget plan. The County Council are responsible for invoicing and they run about 8 weeks behind, so January fees billed in March, but the buggers want immediate payment or you get a nasty in the post. I moved in the July, it took them until the end of August to change my postal address, despite being emailed weekly as a reminder and to ask for outstanding invoices sent to the wrong address to be emailed. In October I asked again but they said there was nothing outstanding. I chased various sections again and waited. To my surprise a bill arrived for the first 16 weeks (that’s to the first week of November) but the figure charged is Β£45+ a week more. F-a-r-k!! Emails whizzed off to various people asking the basic question – how much is it – and as yet no reply from anyone. Am I being charged different as a self funder, is this higher rate including kitchen meals I don’t have, or was I simply told the wrong figure or are there extra charges for things I’m unaware of – who knows. It seems those who should know, don’t know.

OT – as per previous rants, I ended up spending Β£3.5k on a 4ft profiling bed because initially they’d supply a small hospital bed (which I’d roll out of) before attempting to get permission for a better bed, which would be denied as I’m a healthy weight single lady, I’d only qualify for a 3ft bed. This would take approximately 5-6 months, so I ordered my own and got it here in four working days.

Which left the commode issue – I hate having to publicly admit this because it is degrading and personally embarrassing but since dignity etc is now a luxury I’ve just got to get over myself. Back in May 2022 I told OT I would need a different commode, as I would not be able to slide transfer to the porcelain throne. It would need to be a certain height so I can slide transfer onto it. I chased and confirmed over and over to make sure it would be there by the time I moved in, as you know, I’m good at most things but cannot not need the toilet at some point. Commode 1 was two inches higher than the sofa, I had zero choice but to defy gravity and force myself across, pinching my skin, breaking a stay in my brace, bruising in places and scratching myself on its corners. It was intolerable, my carers were appalled, the managers made an urgent call and three weeks later an OT wandered in, said I’d been sent the wrong one, that a right one would arrive. That took another couple of weeks. Again it was wrong, too low and my feet were dragging on the floor but they said they could raise it. Then they said they were waiting for the bits, then they said they were obsolete so it got cancelled without informing me. OT set about finding a different supplier who visited, took and wrote down measurements, as this would be a special request the once a month equipment panel would have to review and approve, this took another two months. Suddenly in December it arrived and was at the wrong height, they returned to adjust it and it’s maximum height again is too low.

Defeat has been called, towel has been thrown down, conceded stubbornness and with three emails one afternoon a commode to my bespoke requirements is being made by the same company who made my current shower chair some 15+ish years ago. Cost Β£560. As it’s a specific made to measure item delivery no later than end of February possibly sooner. But I know it will be right. Oh deities of all and any choice please let it be right!

Now the observant reader might well be thinking, if none of the supplied commodes work, then how is she……. you know….. draining the radiator or dropping the kids off at the pool, etc. Oh gosh, do I commit this truth to the forever world of the internet. Deep breath old gal. Well, my old shower chair with its aperture does have any commode pan rails to hold the pot, so it has to be stood on the floor, strategically placed to hopefully catch whatever descends. (Sorry if you’re eating your toast). The carers have been epic at making this system such a straightforward no bother method but still, sometimes not everything, you know. So yes, essentially this has been happening three or four times a day, every day since July 18th. *shudder*

Then there are the trifling little niggles that all add up to be frustrating, it is in my care plan, it is on a sign stuck to the wall, there is a sugar bowl next to the coffee jar and yet it is still a roulette game as to whether there will be none/one/two sugars in my coffee. A couple of things sent to the laundry have either gone walkies or been put away somewhere other carers cannot find them. The wardrobe chest of drawers must have a black hole in. Finally being able to attempt to make hospital appointments only to find either the consultant has to get the GP to or vice versa to make the referral, again it will be months before I can begin getting new back braces, or the EEG, or baseline respiratory clinic or…or…or… Oh yes and Β£50 travel costs to get to the dentist. I’m going to have to have words with them about how we do things, check up, x-rays, clean, done in one visit not spread across three or more.

Every month the care plan, the risk assessment and the moving and handling assessment is reviewed and signed, it comes round so quick. Management or Management’s management have decided to also include the question “Do you wish to review your respect form” that’s the new description for advanced directive or dnar or dnr, the bugger off and let me die choice. They better not ask me after an OT tussle I might say yes!

I’m not like the others here, except maybe one, and there are times I feel like I’ve moved to a care home where control of personal choice has been taken away and everyone is treated as if they’ve compromised mental capacity. It is not what I was lead to believe. Sadly for everyone I have a mouth and I’m not afraid to use it.

All my pictures are still in the box, I am so worn down by the frustrations and chasing I cannot think about what I want hung where. I miss seeing them, I’m connected to all my accumulated stuff. Maybe ‘soon’ the daylight will power up my solar energies mojo and I’ll get on with things.

I feel like I am being very moaning but this ‘independent living’ doesn’t seem to be gaining progress. It is all very deflating and wearing – plus it’s January, dark, dank, dismal…. ::sigh:: still could be worse.

 
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Posted by on January 19, 2023 in General, Grumble, Life

 

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A Thief, A Rat and into 2023

Hmm, now let me see ….. grab your magnifying glass and come detect with me ……

Within my abode just about a week ago there were a tube of Pringles, a NestlΓ¨ selection box, a sizeable bag of mixed nut selection, a bag of mint aero bubbles and a bottle of grape drink. Whilst I will admit I did pop a Pringle while watching a film, and I might have nibbled a choc during a game show and I know I lightly sipped a tipple during a festive special … but … the festive basket has been plundered to just the fruit pastilles and bingo cookies (more later) and if the thieving rat has been at my cheese selection saved for this afternoon I will have his tail!!

Surely, not I, the lone resident, renowned non-nibbler couldn’t have…. well … indulged frequently, absentmindedly, sort of occasionally gourmandised (don’t you just love a thesaurus) all of those goodies?

🫣 πŸ₯΄ Oopss

If I suddenly go missing this year, tell the authorities to check out the Bingo Mafia, I’ve been branded a hustler and they don’t like it πŸ˜‚. You see, yesterday afternoon I was enticed to join my fellow ressies for drinks, sausage rolls and mince pies and as I had stealthy avoided the Christmas hoorah I went.

Wheeled into the dining room, where a dozen or more were congregating, a silver sequinned trilby plonked upon my head, I was braked in front of a bingo card – ominous. Then raffle tickets were plied and purchased – more ominoisnessness….. Have I been conned and fleeced!!! Eyes down, silence descends, the air tenses, first to four corners. Hopeless. Onto full house, no where near. Next round, first to a line, number after number, getting nearer and I won! Some Belgian chocolate cookies. Onto a full house, nearly, nearly, just two more, and ‘Bingo’! A bag of chocolate caramels. Third and final round, four corners, I came close but my neighbour got there first. The final full house, each number called, legs eleven, knock at the door, two round ladies, two little ducks, clickerty click and Brighton line (I realise that may be a confusing language to some), oh no, my neck starts to heat up, oh no no, palms get sweaty, oh nooooo……. trombones…… ‘Bingo’! I cried as the table behind sighed and mumbled. Oopsy, I told you they take their gambling seriously, I could feel the daggered stares from the crew. Six games and this first timer won three 😳.

Onto the raffle, we’d each bought two strips of five tickets, so ten chances of my numbers coming up out of about a possible 120. First number, phew not me…. second number, phew not me…. third number 419, oh crap that’s me, a bottle of Merlot. We adjourned to the lounge for a tipple and a nibble. Alexa was instructed to play some party tunes and loud chatter and merriment ensued, interspersed with some dubious singing. Back in time for a late supper.

As for 2023, well, let’s see, there’s the debacle of OT and their failings, so I’m giving in and buying my own bespoke item, so I know it’s right. I should have done it sooner, knew I’d end up doing so and only my own stubborn procrastination has prevented me from doing so, six months on and something needed three/four times a day is still not fit for purpose. The system of OT isn’t just broken, it is decimated and like most systems, it is those in need most, who will suffer most.

There’s more paperwork to chase. You see I pay for my care, the care company tells the County Council, who then send me the bill, except I haven’t had any bills. I’ve asked the complex manager to chase, to no avail, I’ve asked the County Council to check and they’ve the correct address but no order to bill, I’ve asked the care company who are confused why it hadn’t already been done. See again, business can delay and confuse and wait but you can get those buggers will want the dosh the next day, well, tough, I’ve done my due diligence, they’ll get it in stages, I’m not loosing six months of Tesco vouchers because of their laziness. (Did I mention I can be stubborn).

The pipe dream for 2023 is to get to appointments, maybe successfully mobile, but I’m having to deal with ‘systems’ that are clogged and bureaucratic, they make a garden snail look like Speedy Gonzales!

So as the Latin quote states “same crap, different year”…. cheers, slange var, Iechyd da πŸ₯‚

 
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Posted by on January 1, 2023 in Life

 

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Pink, Brrr, Hoorah

Well it’s all fun and games round these parts.

I forgot the tale of the oven while BFF was here. For the first night I’d gotten a lasagne and garlic bread, something easy to throw in the oven as BFF would have been up and travelling since stupid-o-clock. She turned the oven on to preheat and we waited, about ten minutes later *pink* and we were plunged into silent darkness. I was confused, the outside lights were still on but my flat was thrust into blankness. Hmm, something has tripped a fuse. Armed with torch BFF went investigating in the airing cupboard but the switch wouldn’t reset. She turned off the oven and presto the switch obliged and lights returned. It was gone 5pm on a Friday, excellent excuse, I mean reason, to get something delivered for dinner but nothing could be reported until Monday and even then, no idea how long it would take to fix.

On the Tuesday a capable man appeared, turned on the oven and waited. Now, you know how it goes, when the professional is waiting the problem never reoccurs. Just when he asked how long it was, I said the same thing, just as I said “it won’t happen with you here” *pink*. Voila! It did. Straight away he took the oven out and said he wasn’t going to fix the fault, just replace the oven altogether. The next day a new oven was installed – that wasn’t straightforward as the muttering fitter (different guy) tasted positive for CoVid the next day!

At a meeting between residents and the housing association we were told that the windows and fire doors were due to be replaced ‘sometime soon’, the official documents had a completion date no later than August 2023. Oh goodie, no more using the tin of tomatoes to prop the window or explaining to visitors that it wasn’t a piece of conceptual statement art. Minds Thinking Alike tells the tale. As things for me are never straightforward, while I was windowless, the guys came to remove the old fire detectors.

NRS delivered a new commode chair about three weeks ago, but we all said it looked too low, and the tape measure confirmed that, at least an inch and a bit. I’ve only been waiting on this kit since April. The system that is Occupational Therapy has broken me, physically, mentally, cynically, I wish I had kept a detailed diary because it’s been unbelievable. Anywho, there’s a man-who-might coming Thursday to height adjust. I’m in mixed mind, is the ‘adjustable’ preset in set increments of an inch or can be it set to a finite specific amount. I mean an inch is enough to trip over. I’m nervous, if it cannot be done, then I’m looking at having to pay for a bespoke one, again.

After a mere four months the two off-the-shelf, standard fit, just not supplied by contracted supplier, slings have been delivered. I can now be hoisted into a wheelchair and go out-out (yeah, have you seen the weather f-ark that, I’m hibernating until March). At least now I can go ahead and make the Orthotics, Imaging, Respiratory Clinic, Dentist appointments for Spring time now. What’s more, once the weather improves, I can get to wheelchair services for an assessment and get motorised! Beep beep, coming through, eat my rubber dust suckers, mwah.

The sudden drop in temperature brought a new challenge and learning curve, how does the heating work here. The magic box could be detached from the wall and after a bit of Googling I found the instruction manual. WooHoo, after a bit of reading and head scratching I had it sussed. I selected the manual override and set the temp, things clicked and the little “heat demand” icon lit up …… just one slightly niggly snaffoo ….. no heat. The girls checked the radiator valves and they were all on full, the hall radiator might have been trying or just less cold. Great, no heating. Now Ms Brain Box here brought when she moved her plug-in oil filled electric radiator that BFF donated many moons ago. I plugged that in and within half an hour was toasty toasting. A few convos concluded that several flats have radiators that are not warming or struggling to. It is likely that they’re all bunged up with accumulated sludge, crap and scale but flushing such a large system isn’t a straightforward task nor something that can be done in a day. it’s on the refurbishment list.

Friday brought its biggest surprise ….. I’ve only been waiting since July of 2019. A couple of people turned up from my GP Surgery to administer the pneumonia vaccine! Ouch, well sort of, my arm swelled and went more a bruised purple than the expected sunburn red. Other than that no real side affects, although I wonder if it’s starting to strike now as I feel a bit sniffly and throat/ear odd. Medicinal strepsils are being sucked.

What else – oh yes, it’s busy as heck here today. There’s a new person moving in, the family are back and forth bringing furniture and belongings, the fire system engineers are here as there’s a fault that refuses to clear, the in-house auditors are here checking care plans and records, the window guys are here doing the final couple of windows, and later a singing duo will be here for the Christmas party this afternoon (while I’m on the phone with my Neuro Consultant).

And here I was thinking I’d have a quiet life!

 
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Posted by on December 13, 2022 in General, Life

 

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Groundhogged

Twelve weeks in and ………… I’m still waiting.

Still waiting for the commode shower chair, still waiting for a hoist sling, still waiting on my property completion, still waiting business organisations to update my address, still waiting for people to do what they said they would.

I’m jaded, very jaded.

The ‘here to help’ organisations are the ones who are failing me, dehumanising and degrading me, and all they offer is patronising hollow apologies.

Someone asked if I felt settled. I’m not really sure what that means, I am used to the new environment and have cobbled new routines, I’m getting used to the noises and sudden interruptions. I’m getting used to never knowing what day of the week it is or which carer will appear when I press the button, but does that make me settled.

All my possessions are around me, pictures displayed (okay I haven’t hung the wall ones yet, still pondering) but I still have moments when I think ‘I need that book’ or ‘I’ll watch that dvd’ or ‘that craft item is just …’, then remember that that item was gotten rid of.

There was a ‘lovely’ meeting with yet another Social Worker who has taken over my case. When she visited my gander gandered and that tiny flickering spark of me sort of ever so politely let rip. I reminded her that I’ve had no contact since Christmas, no reply to emails, no help with the forms, no help with the move, no help with the adjusting (I have had help, and I am extremely grateful to those who volunteered), I wanted to make the point that as an organisation, alongside OT, the systems are failing.

Now don’t be shocked, but as we’ve entered autumn with the (supposedly) cooler days I have been doing a spot of yarn twiddling. A friend tagged me in a post about glow in the dark wool – I know – which sent my down the Google rabbit hole of ghost patterns, that lead to some yarn being purchased and ‘Howl’ the ghost was crocheted into a new topper for her gear stick πŸ‘»

I’ve also made a few ‘mask mates’ for the carers. It felt nice to give back some too.

Just four weeks and a few days until BFF comes to play, I mean stay. We both crave some normality, some familiar, some escape, some laughter.

So I’ve been quiet because I’m still stuck, waiting for those here-to-help organisations and it looks like being another couple of months before the snail creeps an inch closer to any goal ….. so don’t go sprinkling salt anywhere just in case πŸ˜‰

 
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Posted by on October 9, 2022 in General, Grumble, Life

 

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Four Weeks and…..

The quote above struck me as I was playing partial attention to the tv show that used it. Yeap, I’ve died a few deaths in my time but this one has been the most extreme. I could write a list long enough to paper the under-stairs loo of things I either didn’t know and should have or underestimated the effect of. But still, you either stay still or move forward. Thank you for sticking with the tedium of my move, I do appreciate the support, if I’m the lone dog barking in the woods there is someone hearing me.

Soooo……. what’s been happening these past couple of weeks. Well as I sit here in my sun baked lounge with the window propped open and the fan oscillating at full blast (as it has every day since moving in) it seems more than it feels.

Handyman fixed the toilet seat and installed the cupboard shelving brackets and the house keepers put things away in the cupboards. They also found my drinking glasses (they were at the back of a high shelf in a kitchen cupboard), still no tin opener though, and the last box was sorted and cleared. The only box remaining has all the pictures that were on my walls, but I’m in no hurry, I cannot decide what I want where. When I moved into my beloved hovel it was eight years before a picture was put up, lol.

In general life has become a little more uniformed and routined, with the occasional hiccup, but those happen where ever you are. The daily unexpected interruptions slightly wrinkle, the come to get laundry/return laundry, ask if I need anything, has this been done, need to sign off your book, come to wash your dish etc etc pluck the irritation nerve somewhat. If I’m occupied in something on the iPad or phone I’m unlikely to give extensive details because that’s my personal business and unless it’s directly relevant to living here, then it’s ‘nunya’.

OT over the past two weeks has been joyously fantastic. I’ll let you read that line again because I know, dear reader, you’ll be going ‘huh!’. Yes, it has been a blissful delight, but there’s a very big reason ….. I’ve not heard a peep from any of them, no texts, no emails, no calls, no visits, no letters, nothing ….. of course the downside is that nothing has been done either, no word on when the correctly adjusted commode chair will be delivered, no finding a suitably supportive sling and useable hoist.

My beloved hovel was cleared of the things I left behind (some furniture, fridge, washing machine, general clutter etc). It knocked me for a doozy of a downer when the guy unexpectedly sent photos of the cleared rooms with his invoice. Oh gosh, it looked, neglected, unloved, so final. yes, change comes with melancholy, I have had to let go of so much, compromise on so much, both physically and psychologically in order to move, but I’ve gained nothing, yet. It’s hurting and I’ve not really started healing.

The Solicitor’s forms have been completed and signed, all the supporting documentation passed over, it’s moving at its own pace.

Some have asked if I’ve settled in. I didn’t know how to answer that, my things are more organised, although the dishes never get put back in the right spot and I rarely have the same mug each morning. There’s no routine as to who works when so I frequently don’t know what day of the week it is. Experts say it takes three weeks to develop a new habit and 12-18 months before somewhere feels home. I doubt I will ever call here home, it’s where I live, the flat, possibly my flat but never ‘home’ and all the connotations that brings up.

What’s next …. once I have a sling and hoist sorted I can go to the wheelchair center (haven’t been out on my own this century 😲) and be assessed for the powerchair, I’ll need to pass an indoor and outdoor driving test and an eye test . Plus various seating types can be trialed to ensure maximum comfort, even potentially have something specific moulded. Okay so appointments are booked four weeks ahead and it could be another 4-6 weeks before chair arrives, but it seems reliable.

So….. there you have it folks …..

 
4 Comments

Posted by on August 14, 2022 in General, Life

 

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Boxed In And Sticky

Well folks, I arrived ….. that was the easy bit!

Pre-move day two delightful chaps arrived with boxes, bubble wrap and paper, oh and a pint of milk so they could brew up. They set to and during our chats and anecdotes made two remarks, one that I was organised and had made things straightforward for them and two that I was a ‘character’ (what, who? Moi! Well I say). After a bustling three hours the twenty five boxes were taped up and marked and things were ready for the next morning.

Move day – while still in my pit I went to use the house phone but my provider had already disconnected the service (charming) thankfully my mobile was at hand and I booked a wheelchair taxi for 12:30 to take me to my new digs. After a tearful goodbye to my last carer I had a few minutes of quiet reflection in my hovel of thirty years, two months and ten days. It looked worn, dusty and unkempt which was a sad sight, both of us suffering from my deterioration. Before long the big red van pulled up and the two chaps cheerily arrived ready to start the lifting and shifting. After a few false starts I sort of otched on the slide board into the wheelchair and the movers kindly oiked me into a comfy position and parked me in a corner. It seemed to be endless the stream of boxes and chests of drawers that were carted out. Then the big sofa and the big desk.

At about noon my mobile rant, taxi had to cancel because his airport run had been delayed and he wouldn’t be back in time to take me. Bugger, oh well, something had to go wrong. I had saved another company in my phone and called them and they said they would be there is about 30/40 minutes. That was that sorted. Time for me to vacate and wait in the hot sun. After a final brew up and a walk through check, the door was locked and keys put into my bag. We waited and waited. I called the company back to their profuse apologies they’d forgotten me (is that even possible!) and a car would be there in five. Hmm, yeah, a car arrived not a wheelchair car so taxi driver called and a wheelchair car was dispatched. I told the movers to head off as the assisted living complex were expecting them and had keys, they reluctantly set off but within a minute the wheelchair cab arrived, I was loaded and off we went. My throat choked but I kept it together, just.

Somehow it only took half the time to unload. Furniture was put in place, boxes were organised and BroInLaw started unboxing the kitchen ones putting stuff anywhere so it was somewhere. A couple of carers arrived and made up the bed. I said thank you and goodbye to the movers and made arrangements for how the boxes and packing to be collected. The front window doesn’t stay open so a tin of tomatoes has been deployed as window stopper, it’s a South East facing window so the strongest afternoon sun doesn’t bake like my previous West facing window.

I was in ….. rather smoothly if somewhat stickily.

A couple of the carers came Wednesday and unpacked a number of boxes with me directing where I wanted things for now. They chuckled at the stories, marvelled at my antics and adventures and were pleased my instructions were clear and followable. I tried bribing them with a chocolate biscuit but they declined. It really helped make the place look less like box city. There are still boxes in the bedroom and bathroom and it’s curious the things that haven’t come to light. I have a tiger mother and cubs ornament and a tigger drinking beaker yet to be unearthed but they were the lad things packed in a box.

There is a handyman who is available for small jobs I’ve pre-warned him that I have a lot of pictures to go up. That was all the easy bits.

OT had ordered a different style of shower/commode chair to be delivered last week, it was not there. Trying to shuffle from my old chair onto the loo with very few hand holds was sweat inducing and exhausting, shuffling back was even harder. On day two, just as I expected (and had remarked back in May) the loo seat broke. The new shower chair arrived sounding like the tinniest hostess trolley and as hard too, as well as about an inch and a half higher, after sheer brute force and belligerence on my part I got onto it. During that time I crunched bones, pinched skin, stamped circles on my thigh courtesy of the hole where the removed arm slots into, bruised my butt because the boney bit of my butt is against the hard uncushioned plastic. I still cannot defy gravity and slide up hill (how very rude of me). The concerned carers are all remarking how intolerable it is for me, how undignified (please, I lost that many years ago) that something else has to be done and urgently, also amazed at my ingenuity, fortitude and strength. The manager initiated an ‘urgent’ OT visit, but that’s days. I left messages on my OT’s phone but the whole system is not geared up to create solutions, just to provide the cheapest, standardised kit to sort of solve a solution. We’ve botched a new method, using my old cushioned shower chair, standing commode bowl on the floor beneath and hope it catches everything. Sorry TMI??

Anyway, I survived the packing, the move, the heat and the hottest day of the year. But I might not survive OT, they bring out the very worst of me and I don’t like it.

On a much lighter note, I’ve had some very sweet cards from my carers wishing me well and saying they will miss me, I will miss them. They all helped me transition into this world where I need personal care.

 
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Posted by on July 21, 2022 in General, Grumble, Life

 

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Snail Speeding

Things have moved on a pace since the last update. I think my snail has had one too many energy drinks!

A final ruthless rummage of my accumulated clutter was done and the charity was called to collect my donations. Along with the seven stuffed banana boxes, a couple of rammed gym bags there was a box of glasses and a couple of bags of oddments. Mixed feelings as these things were taken out my door, relief that it was gone, a touch of ‘should I have kept that trinket’ but mostly I was comfortable with the things being gone. The hovel instantly felt less disheveled and a snip of progress had been made.

A fantastically generous gal pal had offered to eBay some other items and after bagging and detailing those she came and collected them. It surprised me that something like a Cape De Monti trinket box barely made Β£5 where as two boxes of DMC embroidery silks fetched enough for a decent dinner for two! The Wedgewood Jasperware is worthless but a Disney cross stitch kit made double figures! How tastes have changed.

Slowly all the various drawers and cupboards have been gone through and cleared. Yesterday in a drawer it seemed I was a hoarder of post it notes, playing cards and staple removers! Who needs four staple removers!

The fridge freezer was ordered, delivery within ten days but the email confirmation said something different. I’m hoping madly that it’s there in time!! Profiling Bed. The tale is woeful and quite a debacle involving OT so in the end I just ordered my own, that’s being delivered and installed today (note to self – order new fitted sheets).

Phone and internet has been sorted. We’ll sort of. The switch over will take no more that 24 hours … but … the white socket is in the most ridiculous place. The door in the kitchen opens against the side wall, that’s where it is, there’s no power socket along that wall, no shelf to put a phone on nor room to wall mount a phone. The socket can be moved after the line is active, which is after I’ve moved in. Not figured out how to plug a phone in to tell them to come move the socket.

The list of change of addresses has been made and a few have been ticked off. That reminds me, did I put the electoral register on.

Slight technical snaffoo with the tenancy signing. After all the paperwork was signed and I paid the one week’s rent, when I logged into my association account I discovered my account was in arrears, huh, wait, what, how can that be, I’ve only made one payment two days ago!! Turns out there is a set up fee no one told be about. Great.

There are two items I am having the most quandaries about. One is a four foot bell rope, complete with brass bell and fittings. I cross stitched it for my Mum in single strand embroidery silk on Irish linen. I had looked online and these were selling for Β£80+, yikes. Heart and head are in full war, I made it, but it’s Β£80, but it was for Mum, but it’s Β£80! I’m packing it to continue pondering. The other thing is my front room curtains, they’re just curtains but I really really like them, but they’re full length and would need turning up for the new place, but I really like my thick lined curtains, I’d need to get hoops as it’s a pole rail at the new place and what’s already there is not my choice, but I really really really like them and my sister chose them for me. ::sigh::

The mind is hopping from one thought to another, it’s draining. There’s an item in my house I’m searching for, but I can vaguely recall having to throw it out but I’m not sure I did but the damn thing is eluding me and every nook and cranny has been searched, every drawer and cupboard gone through and it’s not there. Hmmm…..

Manic, chaotic and I’m still not ready………

 
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Posted by on July 8, 2022 in Life

 

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Sunny Hurried Snail

Did you know that snails move quicker when in direct sunlight? Well this bugger has been getting a shift on as if he were in the Sahara or Atacama at high noon!

Last week was another phone call to complete another form, which resulted in another call to reiterate for the third time something blindingly obvious. After that the lovely Housing Association lady said, “Right then, this all goes to Lettings and they’ll draw up the tenancy agreement and we’ll arrange to visit to sign it.”

😳

I asked the impossible question – how long ish will that be? The answer was not too long, but soon, hopefully. (Now dear reader is that one day, a week, a month??? πŸ€·β€β™€οΈ)

The answer is, two working days. Today I got ‘the call’ wanting to set up an appointment to sign the agreement and take the first rent payments, would today be convenient.

😳😳

Now, slow ye ‘orses!! I can’t be ready to move in a few days, OT need to get on board (better chance getting Boris to speak clear precise truth) and equipment delivered. I explained that I’m not comfortable being forced to pay a still unknown rent on a property I cannot move into because a third party can’t get its arse involved. They graciously conceded that it was a problem and an issue, and as my OT will be visiting the flat next Wednesday we’ve agreed a sign up date of 1st July.

😳😳😳

PANIC!!!  
- There's the charity stuff to finish boxing (awesome gal pal volunteered an hour tomorrow morning),
- charity bods to collect stuff (volunteer doing that before the end of the week)
- Packing removal quotes to get and decide
- Phone/Internet to sort
- FridgeFreezer to buy and get delivered
- Profiling bed to source and order
- list the list of lists, that list the other jobs that need doing, things that need to be not forgotten, and general thoughts.

😳😳😳😳

I’m not ready, I’m never going to be ready…..

🐌

 
6 Comments

Posted by on June 21, 2022 in Life

 

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Snail’s hiccuped

Hello happy (bored) readers…… time for an up-date??

BFF’s first day of her holibobs was to push me to the new place so we could see first hand the area, complex and take some photos and measurements of the flat. She’s an awesome walker, I Google street viewed the route to make sure there were no nasty surprises like no dropped kerbs etc, we set off in breezy sunshine and before long the mile was done and we were there. (BFF is awesome because we wandered to the high street for a subway lunch on the way home).

The complex manager and deputy showed us the flat, the wet room is more than double the size of mine, the bedroom is big to allow a wheelchair to get a round the bed and there are three floor to ceiling built in cupboards. The lounge is slightly longer than mine but not as wide however the alcove is comfortably sized for my desk and office drawers unit, I’m thinking of putting the tv on the wall too. The kitchen is well fitted out with a space for an upright fridge freezer.

We were shown the communal dining room (hot meal available for a fee at lunchtime) and the large lounge that leads to a sunny courtyard. It was quiet, airy and comfortable. My particular flat is south-ish facing over looking the carpark, I will be ‘that’ nosy old biddy looking disapprovingly at the late arriver, with glasses perched on the end of my nose lol.

Before leaving the manager said she was going to chase up the person/department in charge of getting the tenancy application paperwork process under way. That was three and a half weeks ago, still no ‘official’ word from the Housing Association. The manager emailed me on Wednesday to ask if I had heard anything (nope) and must have been able to poke the right bod because within an hour an email had arrived and shortly after my phone rang 😱.

Remarkably the online application form was reasonably straightforward, all rather techy nice. I answered the questions from the drop down menu selections offered. The difficult bit is always the financial bit, the thing is I have income that is paid two-weekly, 4-weekly and calendar monthly, some of my direct debits are monthly or quarterly, and the form asks for weekly figures. So ipad1 had for form, ipad2 had bank account screen grabs going back a few months and the smartphone became the calculator. Checking everything three times I hit the submit button and got an automated reply including a pdf of my completed form – all very wizzy!!

So……we wait…….boxes to tick, decisions to make, tenancy agreement to be produced before the next stage! Yikes!! Nobody Paniccccc

 
11 Comments

Posted by on June 10, 2022 in Life

 

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