Appointments
Yesterday Herself came home and the compliment of the Manor is complete.
There was some confusion as to who was to drive where, but in the end I collected her, VGF was here to welcome her and to unpack the car and then Daughter arrived to finish the unpacking and to cook us dinner. Peace then descended on the Manor.
So now in theory we get back to our old routines and life will continue as it has done for years.
Except for the appointments.
It’s one of the outfalls from my little cancer attack. I have an apparently unending string of appointments which frankly can be quite confusing.
Tomorrow I have my physiotherapy. I don’t mind that one as it’s a pleasant experience, it’s in the village and I might get a coffee shop visit slotted in after.
Friday I have another one in St.Vincents. This is a strange one. I got an irate phonecall yesterday wanting to know why I hadn’t attended last Friday. I told her that I had phoned and had been assured there was no appointment until the 23rd. She then went into some explanation that her appointments are different from any other and that they don’t appear on the books. So now I have a new one on Friday but she can’t either write to confirm or send a text. The meeting is apparently a sort of introduction to Immunotherapy, whereas the official appointment on the 23rd is actual Immunotherapy. Confusing? I’m confused.
Then next week I have yet another appointment, again in St Vincents to meet the Professor and his team to have some work done on my neck. That’s on top of yet another physiotherapy appointment.
So my appointments fall into two patterns. Physiotherapy, as I said is in the village with a chance of a coffee shop visit while the rest are all in St Vincents. The bonus there is the new car which I thoroughly enjoy driving and I get a chance to enjoy it. The downside is that they all involve very long [for me] walks which I find exhausting. In my youth I never dreamed that one day I would depend so much on a fucking crutch. Maybe I’ll start robbing Herself’s Rollator which is one of those four wheel walking aids with a built in emergency seat.
Actually I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.
My late wife had that model of rollator, and it’s very good. Apart from one thing.
As the tyres wore, the brakes became less effective. That creates a risk that you lean on it, the brakes don’t work, and the thing moves off and you fall over.
So I’d suggest you have a routine, every month or so, of checking and adjusting the brakes.
I agree. It’s very sturdy and does the job very well apart from two design faults. I totally agree about the breaks, and have had to adjust them a few times. I had to actually modify one as adjustment just didn’t work [after an accident where the whole thing was damaged]. The other fault is more of a niggle. The bag under the seat is grand for maybe brining something home from the shops but Herself is inclined to leave stuff in there on a permanent basis. this means I either can’t fold the yoke or else it spills its contents all over the back seat of the car.
Don’t you have the equivalent of a ‘blue badge’ for disabled parking in Ireland? I got such a badge for my wife – God rest her soul – for her many appointments with dementia. I could also park on the yellow lines outside the dentist.
There is one but we never bothered getting one. It’s a lot of hassle to apply and we would rarely use it anyway.
What a primitive breaking braking system. They used to have that type on stage coaches.
Why not get one of those foldable battery powered scooter things.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=U5B3Ogu-rvk
And enter the Coffee Shop in style.
Heh! She’s lethal enough on the Rollator.