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Actions speak louder than empty promises on voice mail
Oh 3 a.m. It's been a mere 24 hours since you last darkened my experiences. *sigh* Insomnia is more fun when it involves baking cookies.
The wheelchair repair people showed up today, took the wheelchair away, and assured us that we'd hear by by this afternoon about how long it would take to fix, and what it would cost.
At 3:30 Don called them to find out what was up, and was told "Oh, no, we're not even going to look at it before Monday."
Don hasn't left the house since James left on Monday. (No, wait, that's not true, he made it out for a doctor's appointment. He hasn't recovered from the walk to the bus stop yet, and that was two days ago.) AirCanada has not returned our phone calls yet, and now it's Saturday morning (or really late Friday night, I guess), so that's not going anywhere till Monday, when I guess I crack my knuckles and start writing angry emails, and perhaps cc:ing them to my Member of Parliament. Cuz AirCanada's behaviour is, as far as I know, illegal: they are required to treat people with disabilities as actual human beings and not sacks of potatoes. (And, of course, they fought this requirement by law. For you, my fellow Canadians. So you could save 2$ per flight. Which you might still be able to do, except they spent a lot of money fighting the law change in court. While being an official sponsor of the Paralymic Games. You cannot make these things up.)
But, in positive news, my income tax return should be winging it's way here even as we speak. I'm a bit anxious, because the message indicated that I may be getting back a different amount that I calculated on my tax form, but didn't indicate if this was a higher or lower amount. (Nor was it clear it indicated that at all. Tricksy government automated messages!) But, this year it took less than five months to get processed (in their defense, I did have a very complicated return last year), and once it's here I can make plans for that money. Plans like buying textbooks *rubs hands in glee*.
Anyway, one way or another we're going to get a wheelchair on Monday. We'll probably rent it again from the nice people at Shopper's Drugmart, where it is relatively inexpensive and low drama. I'd prefer an electric, because then Don isn't dependent on me to leave the house, but anything is better than the two of us looking outside at the gorgeous weather and sighing prettily about how nice it would be to go for a walk.
Since this post has apparently become "My name is Anna, listen to me angst (again)", we're still waiting for a surgery date for OMG!Cancer. I hate you, OMG!Cancer, and your stupid lack of surgery date.
Okay, enough of that. Tomorrow = free trial yoga, perhaps Mandatory Togetherness Time with Katie & Emmy, and Don has promised I can buy a new book. (He has also, cleverly, told me which book I can buy from my "I MUST HAVE THIS BOOK OR I WILL DIE RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW" list, because otherwise book buying will take three days and a pony.)
Here, have a picture of a cow (and me!):
The wheelchair repair people showed up today, took the wheelchair away, and assured us that we'd hear by by this afternoon about how long it would take to fix, and what it would cost.
At 3:30 Don called them to find out what was up, and was told "Oh, no, we're not even going to look at it before Monday."
Don hasn't left the house since James left on Monday. (No, wait, that's not true, he made it out for a doctor's appointment. He hasn't recovered from the walk to the bus stop yet, and that was two days ago.) AirCanada has not returned our phone calls yet, and now it's Saturday morning (or really late Friday night, I guess), so that's not going anywhere till Monday, when I guess I crack my knuckles and start writing angry emails, and perhaps cc:ing them to my Member of Parliament. Cuz AirCanada's behaviour is, as far as I know, illegal: they are required to treat people with disabilities as actual human beings and not sacks of potatoes. (And, of course, they fought this requirement by law. For you, my fellow Canadians. So you could save 2$ per flight. Which you might still be able to do, except they spent a lot of money fighting the law change in court. While being an official sponsor of the Paralymic Games. You cannot make these things up.)
But, in positive news, my income tax return should be winging it's way here even as we speak. I'm a bit anxious, because the message indicated that I may be getting back a different amount that I calculated on my tax form, but didn't indicate if this was a higher or lower amount. (Nor was it clear it indicated that at all. Tricksy government automated messages!) But, this year it took less than five months to get processed (in their defense, I did have a very complicated return last year), and once it's here I can make plans for that money. Plans like buying textbooks *rubs hands in glee*.
Anyway, one way or another we're going to get a wheelchair on Monday. We'll probably rent it again from the nice people at Shopper's Drugmart, where it is relatively inexpensive and low drama. I'd prefer an electric, because then Don isn't dependent on me to leave the house, but anything is better than the two of us looking outside at the gorgeous weather and sighing prettily about how nice it would be to go for a walk.
Since this post has apparently become "My name is Anna, listen to me angst (again)", we're still waiting for a surgery date for OMG!Cancer. I hate you, OMG!Cancer, and your stupid lack of surgery date.
Okay, enough of that. Tomorrow = free trial yoga, perhaps Mandatory Togetherness Time with Katie & Emmy, and Don has promised I can buy a new book. (He has also, cleverly, told me which book I can buy from my "I MUST HAVE THIS BOOK OR I WILL DIE RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW" list, because otherwise book buying will take three days and a pony.)
Here, have a picture of a cow (and me!):
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