Yesterday I had one of those sleepy blur days, so tired and sore after going to the hospital that even getting washed or dressed was more effort than I could make. I didn't even bother to get out of my pj's when I returned the two calls I'd missed from Roland by forgetting to take my phone off silent and he let me know he was going to pop in for a cuppa. I suppose then it shouldn't have come as a surprise when, with his true coppers knock, he nearly banged the door down late this morning. I'd forgotten to take my phone off silent again, and like yesterday had missed a couple of calls from him, but unlike yesterday I'd not realised. When I hadn't called him back or sent a text, although he said he thought I'd probably left my phone on silent again, he also said I'd looked pretty unwell yesterday and he didn't want to take any chances. Bless. As I'm blogging and am a bit more honest here, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have made it out of the house today either.
Over a cup of tea we decided to go out to costco and road test my new wheelchair. I was too tired to blog about it in the run up to Christmas, but suffice to say the NHS rules I've posted about before mean that as my upper body is too unstable to even consider the kind of chair you self propel and as I have some, albeit mobility I'm not entitled to a power chair, I have ended up with what is officially called a transit chair. In reality that means my friends get to push me around, and if yesterday's experience is anything to go by, I hang on as best I can whilst alternating between screaming with laughter and fearing for my face. I really should have strapped myself in. I knew Roland with his love for speed would not be able to resist seeing if the chair could do wheelies with me in it. It can. You'll all be pleased to know. And we only had a few Lou and Andy moments freaking people out when I got out of the chair and walked.
In all seriousness I'm liking the chair. Even if it's too heavy for me to lift, or move in any way. Even if it has to live in the boot of my car, where it doesn't quite fit properly, making life a bit difficult for anything else that might need to go in there. How could I not love something that's sparkly purple?! It was wonderful to be able to go out for the day and not to have to come home and go to bed after a couple of hours though. Trying to 'walk' on hips that dislocate produces a kind of pain and exhaustion that I don't really talk about in the 'real world'. Once again being honest, it's less to do with not wanting to complain as the nurse specialist thought it was, and more to do with not wanting to acknowledge it to myself. If I start doing that anywhere but here then the enormity of it would probably overwhelm me and as not coping isn't an option that isn't a choice I'm going to make. That said, it was wonderful to just relax and let Roland do the hard work for a few hours, which as he said he is more than happy to do. It was even better, and more unusual to be able to go out for something to eat afterwards, I felt almost normal for a few hours. A grand day out!