I've done it! I've ordered one of these!
This comes on the back of me trying for ages to get an electric chair. It will happen, one day, but I first set the wheels in motion (or not as the case may be) nearly 3 years ago. One of the reasons I got my condition properly diagnosed was the onset of trouble using my upper body - with carpal-tunnel like symptoms in my wrists and unstable, subluxing shoulders. It's difficult to push if your shoulder starts going off exploring your upper back.
As a result of the diagnosis, we changed the car. We moved to an accessible bungalow. Lots of stuff. Y'know. Effort. Expenditure.
My local wheelchair service, who were always very good to me, agreed to provide me with a powerchair. The week before we moved into the bungalow. Oops.
So they gave me a letter instead, which said they'd assessed me, dotted the i's and crossed the t's, and the conclusion was I qualified for a powerchair, for me to pass on to my new wheelchair service in the new district.
But things are never that simple, and although I like to keep this blog focussed on disability-related happenings in life, I can't be bothered to type out in detail the whole saga about all the cr@p that came flying my way from that point on.
When your GP supports you to stop self propelling, the Professor who diagnosed you, your (iffy) Rhematologist, your former wheelchair service provider, and even your physio says to you "Have you ever thought've getting a powerchair? I'll help in any way I can...", you'd think that with much pleading, form filling, and effort, one might manifest, in a year or two, or three, maybe? Particularly when someone where you used to live had already put you through the system, complete with 18 month waiting list?
But not a sausage, mate, not a bloody sausage. Likely I'm doomed to start from the bottom of someone else's waiting list, before even going back to the bottom of the pile for my current wheelchair service provider. You couldn't make this up. And at this stage, I'm so sick of it all, that if one - just one - of these so-called organisations supposed to 'help' me called me up, and said "If we gave you a sausage, just one little sausage, not even a fancy Tescos Finest Pork-and-Apple Sausage, would you just, like, go away, like, forever?"
I'd say yes. Yeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssss. Because now, I've got myself a powertrike! Bugger off! Begone from me, cruel cripple baiting organisations! 16mph (for the price of my current manual wheelchair) nar, nar, na nar nar, get outta my way *biiig raspberry blowing sounds* *finger sticking up* *tongue out* Ha. Ha. Etc. And Stuff. Yeah.
Except. Access to Work. I still love you. Please don't tell me it will turn sour between us. Can I have a powerchair for work? A Balder will do.