Well, for a week anyway.
It's the second week of the Easter holidays, which means that Lil Monster is visiting with her dad for the week. Which means, Wheelz and I are free for the week!
I love my little sister. Let me just make that clear, right from the off. I love my little sister, with a depth that floors me sometimes.
But she is a very high maintenance, highly emotional teenager, who can be utterly exhausting to be around. Therefore, sometimes, I'm glad that she goes for a few days, because it gives me the chance to recuperate.
It doesn't help that I've been struggling with my anxiety recently, and not sleeping very well as a result. I'm sure lots of people can attest to the fact that little sleep generally means little patience.
It also doesn't help that Lil Monster pretty much always regresses with her behaviour in the days leading up to visiting her father. A few conversations this week have brought a few things to light, which have helped me make a bit more sense of things. But the fact remains that, for a week or so before she goes, Wheelz and I are treated to excessive moodiness, tantrums, shouting and more-than-expected belligerence. It can be tough to deal with.
So Wheelz and I are trying to make the most of the week of respite. The funny thing is, and this happens virtually every time, we usually wind up with one or both of us ill during her time away. It's like our bodies stay on high alert whilst she's around, and then just give in and crash when she goes away. She left on Saturday. Since then, I've been struggling to sleep, and feeling more tired and anxious than usual. Wheelz has been suffering from palpitations that nearly sent us to A&E on Sunday night, as well as a persistent migraine.
It sucks, but it's our reality.
Usually, we don't make any concrete plans for this week. We've learned by now that it doesn't work for us.
Instead, we'll just make the most of the peace and quiet that comes from having a teenager free home!
Showing posts with label Wheelz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wheelz. Show all posts
Monday, 9 April 2018
Saturday, 3 March 2018
Cake International, entries open
Double post today. The snow means I've got little to do at the minute.
I posted in November about Cake International, a big show that takes place at the NEC. We attended, and I entered one of the many competitions.
Entry has just recently opened for this year's event. It's a big deal this year, their 25th anniversary, and so the only CI this year will be in Birmingham. That's a huge deal, as it means it'll likely be bigger than ever.
I've entered a competition at CI for the last three years, and other competitions before that, including Salon Culinnaire.
But I'm really apprehensive about this year.
I think it's because of last time. It's not necessarily the disqualification that's putting me off, although it's not something I'd like to repeat!
I think it's the not knowing. A variety of circumstances meant that I wasn't able to get the judge's feedback, meaning that I still have no idea why I was disqualified. The idea of going back there, the embarrassment and the shame, means that it's hard to entertain the notion of willingly doing that again.
But at the same time... part of the reason I do it, is because it's something that's mine and mine alone. It's a way to stay connected to the creative path I started to undertake when I went to college. It's time that I put into myself, holed away in our spare room, creating. And it's not like I don't have ideas. I've had an idea rattling around my head since last November. So part of me thinks it's just a case of giving myself a shake and doing it. Right?
The other problem is...
For the past few years, Wheelz has gotten up at 6am to drive me to the NEC, so that I can drop off my entry. This is mainly because we live in Birmingham, and objectively, we're not too far from the NEC, so it makes more sense than me staying at a hotel nearby, for example. I've always been incredibly grateful to her for this, because it means there's one less thing I have to worry about.
But on the other hand. Is it fair for me to keep asking that of her? I know that she'd probably (probably!) tell me if she really didn't think she was up to it. But I also know that she'd try and make herself drive anyway, being as it's for me.
So does that mean I'm taking advantage if I ask her? Or is that me being ridiculous?
I don't know. I need to think about it. I don't want to cut myself off from something that I do genuinely enjoy doing. This kind of feels like something that anxiety could take away from me, and I don't want that.
So then, I should do it. Right? Just give myself a shake, and fill in the entry form, and get started.
That's what I should do.
That's what I will do.
I think...
I posted in November about Cake International, a big show that takes place at the NEC. We attended, and I entered one of the many competitions.
Entry has just recently opened for this year's event. It's a big deal this year, their 25th anniversary, and so the only CI this year will be in Birmingham. That's a huge deal, as it means it'll likely be bigger than ever.
I've entered a competition at CI for the last three years, and other competitions before that, including Salon Culinnaire.
But I'm really apprehensive about this year.
I think it's because of last time. It's not necessarily the disqualification that's putting me off, although it's not something I'd like to repeat!
I think it's the not knowing. A variety of circumstances meant that I wasn't able to get the judge's feedback, meaning that I still have no idea why I was disqualified. The idea of going back there, the embarrassment and the shame, means that it's hard to entertain the notion of willingly doing that again.
But at the same time... part of the reason I do it, is because it's something that's mine and mine alone. It's a way to stay connected to the creative path I started to undertake when I went to college. It's time that I put into myself, holed away in our spare room, creating. And it's not like I don't have ideas. I've had an idea rattling around my head since last November. So part of me thinks it's just a case of giving myself a shake and doing it. Right?
The other problem is...
For the past few years, Wheelz has gotten up at 6am to drive me to the NEC, so that I can drop off my entry. This is mainly because we live in Birmingham, and objectively, we're not too far from the NEC, so it makes more sense than me staying at a hotel nearby, for example. I've always been incredibly grateful to her for this, because it means there's one less thing I have to worry about.
But on the other hand. Is it fair for me to keep asking that of her? I know that she'd probably (probably!) tell me if she really didn't think she was up to it. But I also know that she'd try and make herself drive anyway, being as it's for me.
So does that mean I'm taking advantage if I ask her? Or is that me being ridiculous?
I don't know. I need to think about it. I don't want to cut myself off from something that I do genuinely enjoy doing. This kind of feels like something that anxiety could take away from me, and I don't want that.
So then, I should do it. Right? Just give myself a shake, and fill in the entry form, and get started.
That's what I should do.
That's what I will do.
I think...
Thursday, 8 February 2018
Happy birthday, Wheelz!
To my partner in crime, my pick me up when I'm feeling low, my very best friend
I know it's been a real shitter of a week, what with bathroom reno still never ending, and leurgies from Lil Monster still taking their toll.
I just wanted to take the time to write you this, before I go to bed. I'm lying in bed, listening to you listen to 'More Than Words', and thinking I'm so glad that I stayed up till midnight to be your first 'happy birthday'.
You never believe me when I say it, but I truly do feel lucky to have you as my best friend. There's no one in the world who gets me like you do, and vice versa. We've had a hell of a year together, haven't we? Moving house, Lil Monster dramas, various diagnoses and appointments, renovations...
And there's no one else that I'd have wanted to go through it with, both good times and bad.
Here's hoping that this year holds more good than bad (and I'm knocking on every available piece of wood for that!). I hope you have a fantastic day, because I can think of no one who deserves it more.
So to the incredible woman who taught me the true meaning of strength, resilience and bravery, as well as a kick ass sense of humour, happy birthday, Wheelz.
From
Stripes, and the beasties
I know it's been a real shitter of a week, what with bathroom reno still never ending, and leurgies from Lil Monster still taking their toll.
I just wanted to take the time to write you this, before I go to bed. I'm lying in bed, listening to you listen to 'More Than Words', and thinking I'm so glad that I stayed up till midnight to be your first 'happy birthday'.
You never believe me when I say it, but I truly do feel lucky to have you as my best friend. There's no one in the world who gets me like you do, and vice versa. We've had a hell of a year together, haven't we? Moving house, Lil Monster dramas, various diagnoses and appointments, renovations...
And there's no one else that I'd have wanted to go through it with, both good times and bad.
Here's hoping that this year holds more good than bad (and I'm knocking on every available piece of wood for that!). I hope you have a fantastic day, because I can think of no one who deserves it more.
So to the incredible woman who taught me the true meaning of strength, resilience and bravery, as well as a kick ass sense of humour, happy birthday, Wheelz.
From
Stripes, and the beasties
Tuesday, 6 February 2018
Happy birthday to me.....well, nearly!
I'm 48 on Friday and my head is abuzz.
There's the meeting with the Doctor where weight loss surgery was suggested. The follow-up meeting where it was chased up. And the two friends who have undergone said surgery in the last three months alone.
I've been following keto since December, with a break for Christmas, and according to the scales have lost the grand total of 11 lbs. Near-daily photos of my face show a difference but that could just be lighting, eyebrow makeup and the angle of the phone - according to me anyway.
For my birthday, I decided to shave most of my hair off and bleach it blonde. Yep, I'm finally going blonde - I've wanted to do it for nearly 30 years but have always chickened out as I thought my mother would disapprove (believe me, I KNOW I have mummy issues and there isn't enough room in this post to go into it). Now, this decision was also based on the idea that the newly installed wet room would mean I can shower regularly and wash/dye my hair myself - some independence at last!! Into the third week of the renovation (that was meant to last a week to ten days), and the hope is dwindling. My birthday is Friday and although the shower is working (at the moment), the water pump is not which means the water doesn't drain away.
We don't need another flood and the cats object to getting their paws wet, so no shower for me.
It's been - well, difficult is the polite word for it. I'm not sleeping; the cats are stressed because of strangers in and out all day as well as the noise; Stripes is stressed because she's trying to look after everyone and make it all okay when it's completely out of her control; and Little Monster gives no f*cks whatsoever because that's her MO. Things got even more stressful when Little Monster called from school on Friday saying she wasn't feeling well. She threw up on Sunday which meant mandatory two days off school - during which time she has driven both me and Stripes completely insane. Thank God she's going back tomorrow, but not before making sure to pass her leurgy on to me. Which is why I'm awake at 05:39 on a Tuesday night, when I should be resting/sleeping. I'm halfway through a roll of toilet paper blowing my nose and wishing that sneezing didn't make my back seize up nearly every single time. The pain of trying NOT to sneeze is almost as bad as the pain when I do!
So, very quick catch up because I should at least attempt to turn the lights off, put on the CPAP mask and close my eyes before 6 am.
January : I helped make one batch of soap. Stripes has made several more and they are getting more beautiful and more intricate as she goes. Beautiful enough to use as birthday presents for family and for them to ask where we got them from.
February:
March: to be decided, although hopefully keto will still be ongoing and my eyebrows will be becoming bushy!
We went to the Dr in January for a smear test. And it was just as enjoyable as you might expect. The room they wanted us to get to was awkward with the wheelchair - sort of round a corner and through a narrow doorway into a small room; the bed they wanted me to lie on was narrow and kinda scary; and the privacy was non-existent to be frank. But hey, I managed it and the results were fine so check that off the list. The next doctor's appointment was worse because the room where it was held was through a doorway that was too narrow for the wheelchair, so I had to lean against the wall whilst Stripes semi-put the chair down and dragged it through the doorway, set it up again and caught me as I collapsed into an ungainly heap. No members of staff tried to help us - a member of the public kept the door open for us to get through.
And this is a relatively new doctor's surgery which has disabled parking, some automatic doors and lifts. It beggars belief, it really does.
So I haven't been out and about much - a trip to Asda has been the most adventurous I've got, and that was FUN because I was on a mobility scooter and could race Stripes and Little Monster down the aisles!
I will try to write more, but I've been feeling rather low and rather useless - what do I have to write when I don't go anywhere or do anything?
Well apart from the Thirty Seconds to Mars concert we are booked to go to in March; and that rain or shine, we are going to the cinema to see 'Black Panther'; and probably going to the cinema to see 'Fifty Shades Freed' because not only is it delicious trash, but it has Tyler Hoechlin in it and he is one of my current 'crushes' (six years and counting so far). But apart from that, we won't be going out much, honest.
Yeah, I'll write more - I promise!
There's the meeting with the Doctor where weight loss surgery was suggested. The follow-up meeting where it was chased up. And the two friends who have undergone said surgery in the last three months alone.
I've been following keto since December, with a break for Christmas, and according to the scales have lost the grand total of 11 lbs. Near-daily photos of my face show a difference but that could just be lighting, eyebrow makeup and the angle of the phone - according to me anyway.
For my birthday, I decided to shave most of my hair off and bleach it blonde. Yep, I'm finally going blonde - I've wanted to do it for nearly 30 years but have always chickened out as I thought my mother would disapprove (believe me, I KNOW I have mummy issues and there isn't enough room in this post to go into it). Now, this decision was also based on the idea that the newly installed wet room would mean I can shower regularly and wash/dye my hair myself - some independence at last!! Into the third week of the renovation (that was meant to last a week to ten days), and the hope is dwindling. My birthday is Friday and although the shower is working (at the moment), the water pump is not which means the water doesn't drain away.
We don't need another flood and the cats object to getting their paws wet, so no shower for me.
It's been - well, difficult is the polite word for it. I'm not sleeping; the cats are stressed because of strangers in and out all day as well as the noise; Stripes is stressed because she's trying to look after everyone and make it all okay when it's completely out of her control; and Little Monster gives no f*cks whatsoever because that's her MO. Things got even more stressful when Little Monster called from school on Friday saying she wasn't feeling well. She threw up on Sunday which meant mandatory two days off school - during which time she has driven both me and Stripes completely insane. Thank God she's going back tomorrow, but not before making sure to pass her leurgy on to me. Which is why I'm awake at 05:39 on a Tuesday night, when I should be resting/sleeping. I'm halfway through a roll of toilet paper blowing my nose and wishing that sneezing didn't make my back seize up nearly every single time. The pain of trying NOT to sneeze is almost as bad as the pain when I do!
So, very quick catch up because I should at least attempt to turn the lights off, put on the CPAP mask and close my eyes before 6 am.
January : I helped make one batch of soap. Stripes has made several more and they are getting more beautiful and more intricate as she goes. Beautiful enough to use as birthday presents for family and for them to ask where we got them from.
February:
- grow my eyebrows (they are shamefully sparse),
- bleach my hair
- live in the shower for at least a week
- keep on keto
March: to be decided, although hopefully keto will still be ongoing and my eyebrows will be becoming bushy!
We went to the Dr in January for a smear test. And it was just as enjoyable as you might expect. The room they wanted us to get to was awkward with the wheelchair - sort of round a corner and through a narrow doorway into a small room; the bed they wanted me to lie on was narrow and kinda scary; and the privacy was non-existent to be frank. But hey, I managed it and the results were fine so check that off the list. The next doctor's appointment was worse because the room where it was held was through a doorway that was too narrow for the wheelchair, so I had to lean against the wall whilst Stripes semi-put the chair down and dragged it through the doorway, set it up again and caught me as I collapsed into an ungainly heap. No members of staff tried to help us - a member of the public kept the door open for us to get through.
And this is a relatively new doctor's surgery which has disabled parking, some automatic doors and lifts. It beggars belief, it really does.
So I haven't been out and about much - a trip to Asda has been the most adventurous I've got, and that was FUN because I was on a mobility scooter and could race Stripes and Little Monster down the aisles!
I will try to write more, but I've been feeling rather low and rather useless - what do I have to write when I don't go anywhere or do anything?
Well apart from the Thirty Seconds to Mars concert we are booked to go to in March; and that rain or shine, we are going to the cinema to see 'Black Panther'; and probably going to the cinema to see 'Fifty Shades Freed' because not only is it delicious trash, but it has Tyler Hoechlin in it and he is one of my current 'crushes' (six years and counting so far). But apart from that, we won't be going out much, honest.
Yeah, I'll write more - I promise!
The Never Ending Story
OK, that might be exaggerating a little bit, because it's almost over with. I bloody hope it is, anyway.
I had hoped to have a post set up for the end of January, when our bathroom work was due to be done. But, as is often the case with our luck, works have taken longer than expected. Then things stopped working. Then they started working, and something else stopped working. To be honest with you, it's kind of the story of our lives.
A bit of backstory. When Wheelz, Lil Monster and I moved in August, we moved into a property that an occupational therapist said needed to be converted. This was absolutely fine with us. Wheelz's physical restraints mean that a bath is too much to manage, whereas a shower should be absolutely fine. The grant took a while to come through, but eventually, at the end of last year, we were given a date in January when work would begin.
We were incredibly excited. As I said, it would mean so much for Wheelz especially. She could take showers independently, with no worries about getting in or out of the bath. She'd be able to wash her hair properly, instead of using the no-rinse shampoo from the care supply shop. The work that needed doing, which they predicted would take a week to ten days, would be well worth the initial inconvenience of having workers in, right?
Well... I suppose so. But it's not done yet.
When the work first started, it was tough to get used to. Early mornings blighted by incredibly loud noise from drilling, and removing tiles, and rerouting plumbing. People flitting in and out of our home, with no introduction and few explanations. The cats were freaking out at the intruders, spending a lot of time hiding, and not eating, and keeping very close to us for protection.
For a few nights, Wheelz had to sleep on the sofa, because it was too much for her to cart all of her stuff (painkiller drawer, CPAP machine, duvet, crutches etc,) through to the living room. The dust kicked up, made her asthma worse. The tools and supplies made our flat a veritable assault course to get from one end to the other. The kitchen was filled with toilet cisterns and new sinks, whilst my bedroom doorway held shower rails and parts.
We spent two days barely able to get through the front door because of the giant box that housed the shower gates.
Saturday mornings weren't exempt either. Our plumber wanted the job done as soon as possible, which meant starting early, working weekends and bringing in extra help/apprentices (his identity was never made clear to us).
We spent time poring over tile colours and floor coverings to make our selections, sweeping up the debris caused by builders wandering through the flat and keeping our fingers crossed that they would be finished soon.
And, thank God, they said they were. On Saturday just gone, 3/2/18, he said he was finished. He showed me the shower, and told me that we just had to wait on the electrician to hook it up, and it was ready. He walked me through the issue with the boiler and explained that he'd complete the radiator just as soon as we got it repressured (?), so that he wouldn't overload it and cut off our heating.
I'll tell you, Wheelz and I rejoiced. We'd spent the last two weeks managing with strip washes in the sink, and were desperate for a proper shower, with hot water and handmade soap- which I promise, I will eventually get around to posting about.
The electrician showed up yesterday morning. He disappeared into the bathroom for a while, whilst we waited with bated breath to hear that the shower was done. Then we heard him on the phone to the plumber. There was an issue, the said. The circuit board wasn't working. No bother. A quick job, which they would pop around this morning and fix. We tempered our disappointment, and waited for them today.
The plumber showed up this morning. He brought the new circuit board, and reiterated that it was an easy fix. He disappeared into the bathroom. An hour or so later, he stuck his head around the door, and asked if I wanted to see the shower working. I nearly knocked him over, trying to get there so quick. And it worked! You pressed a button, water flowed out. I was ecstatic! He got me to sign off on his work, and bid me a good day. When Wheelz awoke, she wanted to come see the new shower, so that she could finally, finally use it.
Except, when Wheelz came to take a look, there was an issue. We pressed the on button, and it started flashing red.
Now, we're fairly capable, resourceful women. So we had a look through the manual, and managed to right the problem. For a few short minutes, it was great. We had flowing hot water!!
Then we noticed that the pump wasn't working. The water wasn't draining, and was in fact making it's way to the toilet with surprising speed. We got in touch with the plumber.
He came around to ours, and expressed surprise that it wasn't working properly. After all, it had been just fine when he had left, not even an hour before.
"That never happens. If there's ever a fault, it's with the shower or the pump, but never both."
Wheelz and I exchanged a droll look. With us, it can always be both.
So, the plumber took a look, dried up the floor, removed some tiles. An electrical fault, he thinks. So he called the electrician, who can't be with us until about three. The shower's fine, he said. No problem there at all. Just the pump not working.
So the electrician has to come by and try to fix it. If he can, the plumber will be back in the morning to replace the tiles. If not... well, I'm trying not to consider that possibility.
We need a shower back. For obvious reasons - the back of Lil Monster's neck is looking disturbingly grey - but also because Friday is Wheelz's birthday.
Historically, no matter how much organising and haranguing and threatening I do, something goes wrong on Wheelz's birthday. Whether it's Lil Monster kicking off, or Bible Sis refusing to get in touch or visit, or having to put the day off because of illness, there is always something.
It feels worse this year, because this was meant to be done. She was meant to get a hot shower, and some handmade soap and a new bleached hairstyle for her birthday. I'd planned it, made it work, willed it to be so, goddammit! But yet again, things are starting on a bad note, and it's not even something within my control.
So, we'll wait until later, to see if the electrician can fix it. And we'll manage if he doesn't, because that's what we always do.
But you mark my words, if this neverending story doesn't find a cut off point sometime very soon, I'm going to be having serious words with whatever cosmic forces have got it in for us!
I had hoped to have a post set up for the end of January, when our bathroom work was due to be done. But, as is often the case with our luck, works have taken longer than expected. Then things stopped working. Then they started working, and something else stopped working. To be honest with you, it's kind of the story of our lives.
A bit of backstory. When Wheelz, Lil Monster and I moved in August, we moved into a property that an occupational therapist said needed to be converted. This was absolutely fine with us. Wheelz's physical restraints mean that a bath is too much to manage, whereas a shower should be absolutely fine. The grant took a while to come through, but eventually, at the end of last year, we were given a date in January when work would begin.
We were incredibly excited. As I said, it would mean so much for Wheelz especially. She could take showers independently, with no worries about getting in or out of the bath. She'd be able to wash her hair properly, instead of using the no-rinse shampoo from the care supply shop. The work that needed doing, which they predicted would take a week to ten days, would be well worth the initial inconvenience of having workers in, right?
Well... I suppose so. But it's not done yet.
When the work first started, it was tough to get used to. Early mornings blighted by incredibly loud noise from drilling, and removing tiles, and rerouting plumbing. People flitting in and out of our home, with no introduction and few explanations. The cats were freaking out at the intruders, spending a lot of time hiding, and not eating, and keeping very close to us for protection.
For a few nights, Wheelz had to sleep on the sofa, because it was too much for her to cart all of her stuff (painkiller drawer, CPAP machine, duvet, crutches etc,) through to the living room. The dust kicked up, made her asthma worse. The tools and supplies made our flat a veritable assault course to get from one end to the other. The kitchen was filled with toilet cisterns and new sinks, whilst my bedroom doorway held shower rails and parts.
We spent two days barely able to get through the front door because of the giant box that housed the shower gates.
Saturday mornings weren't exempt either. Our plumber wanted the job done as soon as possible, which meant starting early, working weekends and bringing in extra help/apprentices (his identity was never made clear to us).
We spent time poring over tile colours and floor coverings to make our selections, sweeping up the debris caused by builders wandering through the flat and keeping our fingers crossed that they would be finished soon.
And, thank God, they said they were. On Saturday just gone, 3/2/18, he said he was finished. He showed me the shower, and told me that we just had to wait on the electrician to hook it up, and it was ready. He walked me through the issue with the boiler and explained that he'd complete the radiator just as soon as we got it repressured (?), so that he wouldn't overload it and cut off our heating.
I'll tell you, Wheelz and I rejoiced. We'd spent the last two weeks managing with strip washes in the sink, and were desperate for a proper shower, with hot water and handmade soap- which I promise, I will eventually get around to posting about.
The electrician showed up yesterday morning. He disappeared into the bathroom for a while, whilst we waited with bated breath to hear that the shower was done. Then we heard him on the phone to the plumber. There was an issue, the said. The circuit board wasn't working. No bother. A quick job, which they would pop around this morning and fix. We tempered our disappointment, and waited for them today.
The plumber showed up this morning. He brought the new circuit board, and reiterated that it was an easy fix. He disappeared into the bathroom. An hour or so later, he stuck his head around the door, and asked if I wanted to see the shower working. I nearly knocked him over, trying to get there so quick. And it worked! You pressed a button, water flowed out. I was ecstatic! He got me to sign off on his work, and bid me a good day. When Wheelz awoke, she wanted to come see the new shower, so that she could finally, finally use it.
Except, when Wheelz came to take a look, there was an issue. We pressed the on button, and it started flashing red.
Now, we're fairly capable, resourceful women. So we had a look through the manual, and managed to right the problem. For a few short minutes, it was great. We had flowing hot water!!
Then we noticed that the pump wasn't working. The water wasn't draining, and was in fact making it's way to the toilet with surprising speed. We got in touch with the plumber.
He came around to ours, and expressed surprise that it wasn't working properly. After all, it had been just fine when he had left, not even an hour before.
"That never happens. If there's ever a fault, it's with the shower or the pump, but never both."
Wheelz and I exchanged a droll look. With us, it can always be both.
So, the plumber took a look, dried up the floor, removed some tiles. An electrical fault, he thinks. So he called the electrician, who can't be with us until about three. The shower's fine, he said. No problem there at all. Just the pump not working.
So the electrician has to come by and try to fix it. If he can, the plumber will be back in the morning to replace the tiles. If not... well, I'm trying not to consider that possibility.
We need a shower back. For obvious reasons - the back of Lil Monster's neck is looking disturbingly grey - but also because Friday is Wheelz's birthday.
Historically, no matter how much organising and haranguing and threatening I do, something goes wrong on Wheelz's birthday. Whether it's Lil Monster kicking off, or Bible Sis refusing to get in touch or visit, or having to put the day off because of illness, there is always something.
It feels worse this year, because this was meant to be done. She was meant to get a hot shower, and some handmade soap and a new bleached hairstyle for her birthday. I'd planned it, made it work, willed it to be so, goddammit! But yet again, things are starting on a bad note, and it's not even something within my control.
So, we'll wait until later, to see if the electrician can fix it. And we'll manage if he doesn't, because that's what we always do.
But you mark my words, if this neverending story doesn't find a cut off point sometime very soon, I'm going to be having serious words with whatever cosmic forces have got it in for us!
Sunday, 7 January 2018
Happy New Year!
As the title starts, Happy New Year to anyone reading this. We've somehow made it to 2018.
I know I'm a little late in posting this- technical issues, family shit. Same old.
This will probably only be a short post.
As the clock passed midnight, Wheelz, Lil Monster and I asked one another, what are your resolutions for this year? What are you aiming to do?
Life has taught me not to make any firm resolutions. They don't seem to work out. The universe has an uncanny way of stepping in and messing things up. But I have made a few small resolutions, a few small personal goals that I'm going to try and keep up this year.
1. Write more. Whether it's on here, or in a diary, or recreationally. I'm going to try and make time to sit down and write at least once a week. There's something cathartic about letting words fill a page. It feels like unloading, like letting things go. Even if there's nothing special, or new, or important about what I'm writing. It's just good to let things out of my head.
2. Talk to people, about how I'm feeling. The day after Boxing Day, my lovely Aunt offered to give me a lift home. She's in a similar situation to me with regards to Lil Monster. It was the first time in a while that I've had a chance to talk to someone openly, about my thoughts and feelings, without feeling like I had to censor myself. She told me to get in touch with her, if ever I wanted to chat, or a distraction. I realised that I don't really talk to anyone about my innermost thoughts. I'm not sure if that's because some of them feel too toxic to let out, or if it's because I don't want to burden them. But I ought to talk more, and let people listen, and help. Which leads me onto my next...
3. Accept help. I don't like feeling indebted to people, which is how I generally end up feeling if I accept help from them. The aforementioned lovely Aunt offered to give me a lift, and I felt weird about it and sent her petrol money afterwards. She told me there wasn't any need. Why can't I accept help from others? Is it because I want to feel like I've got a handle on everything? I don't know. But there isn't anything wrong with accepting help. In fact, if I was offering advice to someone else in my position, I'd tell them to take all the help they could get! I'm going to try, this year, to take my own advice a little bit more.
There are other things that I'll probably try and do this year. Wheelz and I are going to attempt soap making this year, as well as experimenting with some fun new keto recipes.
2018, watch out!
I know I'm a little late in posting this- technical issues, family shit. Same old.
This will probably only be a short post.
As the clock passed midnight, Wheelz, Lil Monster and I asked one another, what are your resolutions for this year? What are you aiming to do?
Life has taught me not to make any firm resolutions. They don't seem to work out. The universe has an uncanny way of stepping in and messing things up. But I have made a few small resolutions, a few small personal goals that I'm going to try and keep up this year.
1. Write more. Whether it's on here, or in a diary, or recreationally. I'm going to try and make time to sit down and write at least once a week. There's something cathartic about letting words fill a page. It feels like unloading, like letting things go. Even if there's nothing special, or new, or important about what I'm writing. It's just good to let things out of my head.
2. Talk to people, about how I'm feeling. The day after Boxing Day, my lovely Aunt offered to give me a lift home. She's in a similar situation to me with regards to Lil Monster. It was the first time in a while that I've had a chance to talk to someone openly, about my thoughts and feelings, without feeling like I had to censor myself. She told me to get in touch with her, if ever I wanted to chat, or a distraction. I realised that I don't really talk to anyone about my innermost thoughts. I'm not sure if that's because some of them feel too toxic to let out, or if it's because I don't want to burden them. But I ought to talk more, and let people listen, and help. Which leads me onto my next...
3. Accept help. I don't like feeling indebted to people, which is how I generally end up feeling if I accept help from them. The aforementioned lovely Aunt offered to give me a lift, and I felt weird about it and sent her petrol money afterwards. She told me there wasn't any need. Why can't I accept help from others? Is it because I want to feel like I've got a handle on everything? I don't know. But there isn't anything wrong with accepting help. In fact, if I was offering advice to someone else in my position, I'd tell them to take all the help they could get! I'm going to try, this year, to take my own advice a little bit more.
There are other things that I'll probably try and do this year. Wheelz and I are going to attempt soap making this year, as well as experimenting with some fun new keto recipes.
2018, watch out!
Wednesday, 8 November 2017
Bartram's
Buckle in, this might be a bit of a long one.
So, I alluded to an incident involving the mobility company, Bartram's, in my recent post about our trip to the NEC. I've been in touch with them twice since, and fortunately, the situation is as good as resolved.
A week before our trip to the NEC, I visited their 'disabled access' page, and booked a mobility scooter for Wheelz to use. We've used Bartram's in the past, and found them to be a great resource when visiting such a site as the NEC.
Fast forward to Sunday. We followed the sat-nav directions to the parking at the NEC. We found ourselves around the back of hall 17. Upon asking the parking director, we were given directions to the parking outside the atrium, halls 17 and 18. We parked close to the door, and used the wheelchair to get inside. Having used the service in the past, we knew that there was a mobility stall just inside the doors, so we headed there. However, there was no one there. The door was locked, the shutters were down, and there wasn't so much as a sign to tell us when they'd be back. There was a scooter parked outside, with a phone number on the back, which I tried calling. I've since learnt that the phone service isn't manned over the weekend.
At a bit of a loss as to what to do, we sent my aunt and Lil Monster around the corner to find the next mobility stall. I received a call from my aunt not long after they left. The lady- I didn't catch her name- manning that stall informed us that we needed to go around to the next stall in order to collect a scooter.
If you're like me, you'll be thinking, what? You, the able bodied attendant, would like my disabled mother to come to you?
Apparently, she was serious, so we made our way around to the next mobility stall.
Once there, I showed her the confirmation email that I had, stating that I had indeed booked and paid for a scooter, and which show we were using it for. She read the email, nodded, and informed us that we needed to travel through the NEC, to get to the piazza outside hall 1, which was where the pet show was being held.
We pointed out the obvious- namely, that the whole point of booking a scooter was that Wheelz wouldn't need to wheel her way around the place, she should be able to use the scooter.
It became clear that the lady we were speaking to had no real idea how the NEC was set up, nor how the stall was run.
I later found out that she was from a temping agency, and had no real training on how to handle the situation.
After some back and forth, and getting the official number from Bartram's so that we could complain, she agreed to give us a scooter to use.
As I said before, Wheelz then had her scooter, and we were able to enjoy our trip to the Pet Show.
On Monday, I got in touch with Bartram's about the whole fiasco. There were a few different issues that I wanted dealing with.
The National Pet Show was being held in hall 1. It stands to reason that we'd collect the scooter from near that hall, right? Except we went to the disabled parking that we were directed to. Our tickets didn't state which hall we were in, so we had no way of knowing where we were supposed to be. The booking form for Bartram's asks you which show you are using the scooter for, but gives no information about which mobility stall you're supposed to collect your scooter from.
So, I got in touch, and spoke to a gentleman from Bartram's- I believe his name was Jack. I explained the situation to Jack, who was reasonably sympathetic in response. He told me that, once a booking has been made, it should show up on a list that all of the mobility stalls have, and the lady shouldn't have argued with us about the collection of the scooter. He apologized about the booking system, but stated that that was just how it was. When it became clear to him that I wasn't going to be fobbed off with that's just the way it is, he offered to take my details and give them to his manager, so that I could discuss the situation with them. I agreed, and he told me they'd be in touch today (Wednesday).
Fast forward again to today. I waited for them to get in touch with me. I waited until around two thirty, which I felt gave them ample time to get in touch with me. I was put through to the event coordinator, Marie. Again, I explained the situation to her, and she helped me clear up a few matters.
Apparently, the parking attendant should have checked which show we were attending. We ended up parked just about as far away from the piazza as it's possible to get, because we followed his directions.
She was unimpressed when I informed her that the stall nearest the doors was unmanned, as apparently, there should have been someone there who could help up.
She agreed with Jack, in that the booking system doesn't give any indication as to where to collect the scooters from, and told me that ideally, disabled patrons should be able to park close to their event, and find the relevant stall from there. When I queried this (what are disabled patrons supposed to do, then, if they can't park particularly close? Hope for the best, and grit their teeth against any pain and discomfort caused by wandering around trying to find their scooter?), she told me that there is supposed to be an allocated person to help with this situation; they were clearly absent during our visit.
She disagreed with Jack about the list that the stalls have. When you book your scooter, it asks you which show you're attending. The assumption is that the ticket you have for your show will tell you which hall you're in, and therefore you'll park nearby and go to the correct stall in the first place. When I explained that our Groupon tickets didn't have this stated anywhere, she told me that she'd get in touch with the NEC and ask them about revising this. She's also going to get in touch with the NEC about the directions given by the parking attendants, because the directions he gave us were what started off the whole sorry charade.
I have to commend Marie for her kindness and helpfulness over the phone today. She issued an apology to myself and passed one on to Wheelz. She has refunded us for the cost of the scooter booking for the weekend, as she said that Wheelz shouldn't have been put out like that in the first place. As I said earlier, she's also going to get in touch with the NEC about a few procedures they have in place with regards to their parking attendants, and ticket layout.
She was, all in all, wonderful in dealing with this situation. The whole experience, prior to talking to her today, had kind of put me off using Bartram's in the future, which would have been a shame.
I was worried about how this post was going to turn out. I think that Bartram's do great work, and don't want to sound as though I don't appreciate what they do. I think there were some issues this weekend that needed resolving, and I'm glad that we were about to sort it all out in the end.
I was also worried about making both phone calls. I don't much like phone calls as a matter of course; it's too easy for conversations to be taken the wrong way, or to be misheard. Despite the fact that I was making a complaint, I didn't want to come across as rude or nasty. However, I also didn't want to sound wet, or be shot down because I wasn't assertive enough.
It didn't help that I spoke to my dad yesterday, and mentioned the situation. I mentioned to him that I was going to get back in touch and complain. He laughed at me! When I asked him what was so funny, he told me that he'd heard my negotiating and complaining before, and he essentially said that I was unlikely to achieve anything, going about it my way. I mentioned my concern about sounding rude, and he told me that that was my problem; I was complaining, and I needed to be clear that I wasn't going to accept being brushed off.
It would be fair to say that making the phone call this afternoon was a bit of a 'fuck you' to my dad. I wasn't going to be brushed off, but I didn't need to be rude or bolshy to make that happen. I'm aware that he still sees me as I was at fifteen, when I moved away from him- a bit timid, a bit... weak.
But that's not the case anymore.
I'm not saying it's easy to do. But I think complaining about the things that go wrong is the best thing you can do. You don't have to be rude about it, you don't have to shout down the phone at anyone.
Things can't change if people don't know what they're doing wrong.
Life is hard enough, being the carer for a disabled person. Going out can be hard, not know what Wheelz is going to be up against and trying to help her with all of that. If me making a complaint today means that our next visit, or the visit of another disabled patron, goes smoother than it did on Sunday, then it was more than worth the discomfort of that phone call.
So, I alluded to an incident involving the mobility company, Bartram's, in my recent post about our trip to the NEC. I've been in touch with them twice since, and fortunately, the situation is as good as resolved.
A week before our trip to the NEC, I visited their 'disabled access' page, and booked a mobility scooter for Wheelz to use. We've used Bartram's in the past, and found them to be a great resource when visiting such a site as the NEC.
Fast forward to Sunday. We followed the sat-nav directions to the parking at the NEC. We found ourselves around the back of hall 17. Upon asking the parking director, we were given directions to the parking outside the atrium, halls 17 and 18. We parked close to the door, and used the wheelchair to get inside. Having used the service in the past, we knew that there was a mobility stall just inside the doors, so we headed there. However, there was no one there. The door was locked, the shutters were down, and there wasn't so much as a sign to tell us when they'd be back. There was a scooter parked outside, with a phone number on the back, which I tried calling. I've since learnt that the phone service isn't manned over the weekend.
At a bit of a loss as to what to do, we sent my aunt and Lil Monster around the corner to find the next mobility stall. I received a call from my aunt not long after they left. The lady- I didn't catch her name- manning that stall informed us that we needed to go around to the next stall in order to collect a scooter.
If you're like me, you'll be thinking, what? You, the able bodied attendant, would like my disabled mother to come to you?
Apparently, she was serious, so we made our way around to the next mobility stall.
Once there, I showed her the confirmation email that I had, stating that I had indeed booked and paid for a scooter, and which show we were using it for. She read the email, nodded, and informed us that we needed to travel through the NEC, to get to the piazza outside hall 1, which was where the pet show was being held.
We pointed out the obvious- namely, that the whole point of booking a scooter was that Wheelz wouldn't need to wheel her way around the place, she should be able to use the scooter.
It became clear that the lady we were speaking to had no real idea how the NEC was set up, nor how the stall was run.
I later found out that she was from a temping agency, and had no real training on how to handle the situation.
After some back and forth, and getting the official number from Bartram's so that we could complain, she agreed to give us a scooter to use.
As I said before, Wheelz then had her scooter, and we were able to enjoy our trip to the Pet Show.
On Monday, I got in touch with Bartram's about the whole fiasco. There were a few different issues that I wanted dealing with.
The National Pet Show was being held in hall 1. It stands to reason that we'd collect the scooter from near that hall, right? Except we went to the disabled parking that we were directed to. Our tickets didn't state which hall we were in, so we had no way of knowing where we were supposed to be. The booking form for Bartram's asks you which show you are using the scooter for, but gives no information about which mobility stall you're supposed to collect your scooter from.
So, I got in touch, and spoke to a gentleman from Bartram's- I believe his name was Jack. I explained the situation to Jack, who was reasonably sympathetic in response. He told me that, once a booking has been made, it should show up on a list that all of the mobility stalls have, and the lady shouldn't have argued with us about the collection of the scooter. He apologized about the booking system, but stated that that was just how it was. When it became clear to him that I wasn't going to be fobbed off with that's just the way it is, he offered to take my details and give them to his manager, so that I could discuss the situation with them. I agreed, and he told me they'd be in touch today (Wednesday).
Fast forward again to today. I waited for them to get in touch with me. I waited until around two thirty, which I felt gave them ample time to get in touch with me. I was put through to the event coordinator, Marie. Again, I explained the situation to her, and she helped me clear up a few matters.
Apparently, the parking attendant should have checked which show we were attending. We ended up parked just about as far away from the piazza as it's possible to get, because we followed his directions.
She was unimpressed when I informed her that the stall nearest the doors was unmanned, as apparently, there should have been someone there who could help up.
She agreed with Jack, in that the booking system doesn't give any indication as to where to collect the scooters from, and told me that ideally, disabled patrons should be able to park close to their event, and find the relevant stall from there. When I queried this (what are disabled patrons supposed to do, then, if they can't park particularly close? Hope for the best, and grit their teeth against any pain and discomfort caused by wandering around trying to find their scooter?), she told me that there is supposed to be an allocated person to help with this situation; they were clearly absent during our visit.
She disagreed with Jack about the list that the stalls have. When you book your scooter, it asks you which show you're attending. The assumption is that the ticket you have for your show will tell you which hall you're in, and therefore you'll park nearby and go to the correct stall in the first place. When I explained that our Groupon tickets didn't have this stated anywhere, she told me that she'd get in touch with the NEC and ask them about revising this. She's also going to get in touch with the NEC about the directions given by the parking attendants, because the directions he gave us were what started off the whole sorry charade.
I have to commend Marie for her kindness and helpfulness over the phone today. She issued an apology to myself and passed one on to Wheelz. She has refunded us for the cost of the scooter booking for the weekend, as she said that Wheelz shouldn't have been put out like that in the first place. As I said earlier, she's also going to get in touch with the NEC about a few procedures they have in place with regards to their parking attendants, and ticket layout.
She was, all in all, wonderful in dealing with this situation. The whole experience, prior to talking to her today, had kind of put me off using Bartram's in the future, which would have been a shame.
I was worried about how this post was going to turn out. I think that Bartram's do great work, and don't want to sound as though I don't appreciate what they do. I think there were some issues this weekend that needed resolving, and I'm glad that we were about to sort it all out in the end.
I was also worried about making both phone calls. I don't much like phone calls as a matter of course; it's too easy for conversations to be taken the wrong way, or to be misheard. Despite the fact that I was making a complaint, I didn't want to come across as rude or nasty. However, I also didn't want to sound wet, or be shot down because I wasn't assertive enough.
It didn't help that I spoke to my dad yesterday, and mentioned the situation. I mentioned to him that I was going to get back in touch and complain. He laughed at me! When I asked him what was so funny, he told me that he'd heard my negotiating and complaining before, and he essentially said that I was unlikely to achieve anything, going about it my way. I mentioned my concern about sounding rude, and he told me that that was my problem; I was complaining, and I needed to be clear that I wasn't going to accept being brushed off.
It would be fair to say that making the phone call this afternoon was a bit of a 'fuck you' to my dad. I wasn't going to be brushed off, but I didn't need to be rude or bolshy to make that happen. I'm aware that he still sees me as I was at fifteen, when I moved away from him- a bit timid, a bit... weak.
But that's not the case anymore.
I'm not saying it's easy to do. But I think complaining about the things that go wrong is the best thing you can do. You don't have to be rude about it, you don't have to shout down the phone at anyone.
Things can't change if people don't know what they're doing wrong.
Life is hard enough, being the carer for a disabled person. Going out can be hard, not know what Wheelz is going to be up against and trying to help her with all of that. If me making a complaint today means that our next visit, or the visit of another disabled patron, goes smoother than it did on Sunday, then it was more than worth the discomfort of that phone call.
Saturday, 16 September 2017
The Summer of Yes - and yes, I know it's practically Autumn!
As discussed with my Counsellor, this is the start of our new blog. Disabled access has become more important to us over the course of the last year.
Stripes has officially become Carer, although to be honest she's been doing that job for far longer than the records say. And Wheelz has accepted that following a TIA incident last March and a diagnosis of osteoarthritis in both knees that 'disabled' is a label that fits.
So, how friendly is the world to a disabled person who needs a wheelchair for 'long' distances, and a Carer trying to make life as normal as possible? Add to which, Stripes is quite a slender young lady and Wheelz is - well, ahem, politely put, Wheelz is morbidly obese and outweighs Stripes by quite a margin! So pushing the wheelchair in itself becomes a feat of endurance, strength and trying to ignore the nice people who think she needs a hand!
Sleep apnea was diagnosed last November, which means a CPAP machine - not great when sometimes claustrophobia is a problem. But me and the machine are getting on a bit better now. It helps when I can't catch my breath, or when hayfever makes me a sneeze machine.
To top it all off, we also have the challenge of a new teenager who has spent the last eight years acting out. Like, seriously acting out. We're talking violence, tantrums, wetting incidents - family support, CAMHS, TAF meetings at school - yeah, just loads.
So over the course of the summer, lots of things changed.
We moved from a second floor high rise flat to a ground floor, low rise flat in a different area. Major change for us - being stuck on the second floor when the lifts aren't working can lead to mega feelings of isolation, adds to depression plus the noise made it very easy to fall into a space where I just didn't want to exist. Fortunately, the house move has made a difference already - now if I could just sleep!
And finally, I decided to give the keto diet another try. I did Atkins years ago (didn't everyone?!) but it fell by the wayside for reasons I can't recollect now. But I haven't found myself able to stick to 5:2, despite finding some very handy products from Asda, and I NEED to do something about my weight.
Saturday 16th September is the start date. And we had fun with the following slicer that Stripes bought making a salad for lunch so as soon as I'm hungry it's ready.
Onions and mushrooms sliced and diced almost instantly made it fun and quick, so even if Stripes is out and about, I can do myself something to eat. I do have a dining chair in the kitchen that I sit on to do this stuff - I can't stand up for long periods of time without feeling dizzy and in pain. Am going to try to do this clean i.e. no fake-bake to start with, just keeping it simple by keeping my carb intake below 25grams per day. We shall see.
So it's taken months to actually get as far as doing a first post for here. We have also finally used a photo of one of our cats for the header - personalisation is the plan but it might take time. Here goes nothing!
Stripes has officially become Carer, although to be honest she's been doing that job for far longer than the records say. And Wheelz has accepted that following a TIA incident last March and a diagnosis of osteoarthritis in both knees that 'disabled' is a label that fits.
So, how friendly is the world to a disabled person who needs a wheelchair for 'long' distances, and a Carer trying to make life as normal as possible? Add to which, Stripes is quite a slender young lady and Wheelz is - well, ahem, politely put, Wheelz is morbidly obese and outweighs Stripes by quite a margin! So pushing the wheelchair in itself becomes a feat of endurance, strength and trying to ignore the nice people who think she needs a hand!
Sleep apnea was diagnosed last November, which means a CPAP machine - not great when sometimes claustrophobia is a problem. But me and the machine are getting on a bit better now. It helps when I can't catch my breath, or when hayfever makes me a sneeze machine.
To top it all off, we also have the challenge of a new teenager who has spent the last eight years acting out. Like, seriously acting out. We're talking violence, tantrums, wetting incidents - family support, CAMHS, TAF meetings at school - yeah, just loads.
So over the course of the summer, lots of things changed.
We moved from a second floor high rise flat to a ground floor, low rise flat in a different area. Major change for us - being stuck on the second floor when the lifts aren't working can lead to mega feelings of isolation, adds to depression plus the noise made it very easy to fall into a space where I just didn't want to exist. Fortunately, the house move has made a difference already - now if I could just sleep!
And finally, I decided to give the keto diet another try. I did Atkins years ago (didn't everyone?!) but it fell by the wayside for reasons I can't recollect now. But I haven't found myself able to stick to 5:2, despite finding some very handy products from Asda, and I NEED to do something about my weight.
Saturday 16th September is the start date. And we had fun with the following slicer that Stripes bought making a salad for lunch so as soon as I'm hungry it's ready.
Onions and mushrooms sliced and diced almost instantly made it fun and quick, so even if Stripes is out and about, I can do myself something to eat. I do have a dining chair in the kitchen that I sit on to do this stuff - I can't stand up for long periods of time without feeling dizzy and in pain. Am going to try to do this clean i.e. no fake-bake to start with, just keeping it simple by keeping my carb intake below 25grams per day. We shall see.
So it's taken months to actually get as far as doing a first post for here. We have also finally used a photo of one of our cats for the header - personalisation is the plan but it might take time. Here goes nothing!
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