|trouble (trouble) wrote,|
@ 2010-10-06 03:23 am UTC
|Entry tags:||don: all about don, don: don = evil (but he hides it), don: don health updates, don: don updates, personal: all about me|
First, Don has been sick, still or again or something, we're not really sure. He headed off to the throat doctor this morning about his frozen vocal cord, then came home and cancelled his other doctor's appointment and slept till almost 7. He's a bit better now.
The throat doctor says that there's a surgery they can do that inserts a small plastic piece in the throat that... I don't know. Something that affects the way the air travels and should make life a bit easier for Don in terms of speaking and being heard, and thank goodness for that. Don's researching the surgery to determine if he wants to be put on the waiting list. Waiting list is three to four months. The surgery requires him to be knocked out but not actually under general anesthesia, as apparently at some points he needs to be able to vocalize so they can tell if the plastic is positioned properly.
So, the wheelchair is still out on unspecified "repairs" for an unspecified amount of time.
People often equate this to being without a car for that period of time. I'm a bit iffy on this analogy. I would go more with "Imagine if you, who normally leaves your house quite often, was suddenly locked in. For weeks." I can't remember if we're on three weeks or four now.
This is a huge freaking deal in our lives. Don does a lot of things that require the wheelchair and being able to leave the apartment. Just to rattle off some things that are really a problem right now, he usually takes out the garbage and the recycling, takes down and gathers up the laundry, runs errands, buys groceries, and all that jazz, not to mention we like to socialise with people on a regular basis, or just go out for tea at the nice wheelchair-accessible tea shop up the road. This may seem like simple inconvenience to someone outside of our relationship, but to us this is a huge problem. I spent a big chunk of today just taking care of all the household tasks that have been piling up because I'm not home very much and when I am home I'm exhausted. And I still haven't bought us actual food yet.
But imagine someone with a job. Someone with a typical Haligonian service-industry job, for example: working in a hotel, or at a call center. Or maybe working as a receptionist at a busy office. Now imagine them being unable to go into work for the foreseeable future because they can't leave their home because the damned wheelchair repair place has the wheelchair and won't tell you when it will be back. I'd love that phone conversation. "Oh, hi, yes, I'm sorry, I can't come in for another week. No, I have no idea how long it will be." Imagine trying to make ends meet this month if we were counting on Don having a paycheque. It just wouldn't work.
I note, for the record, that there's no reason for Medi-Chair not to believe that Don has a job.
They haven't even called us back with an estimate on how long it will take to repair it.
In other wheelchair stuff, Don's looking at getting a manual chair for travel and for the multiple times a year apparently we will be without his electric one. Apparently once that's all sorted, they'll have me come in and get the height of the handles adjusted so I can push it without hurting myself bending over! I'm very excited! Plus, I like the idea of us being able to travel without the big electric chair.
I spent today home, as I said, cleaning many things. Got out the garbage and the recycling, did three loads of laundry, did too-few loads of dishes, and generally tried to get the house wrangled and back under control so I can go back to neglecting it for another month or something while doing thesis work. Or so's the plan.
Now I am drinking tea, and Don is reminding me that we're well after 3 a.m. here in Halifax so I should be an adult and go to bed. Sleep is like ice cream, tempting but a bit scary.