In a manner similar to the proverbial bus, I've been waiting for ages for a number of specialist appointments and have now had three in the last couple of weeks.
1. Wheelchair clinic
Because my old NHS wheelchair was a behemoth (code name Dreadnought or The Destroyer), I've been wanting to see if there was a different option that (a) would fit in our car more easily, (b) was a bit lighter, and (c) I could propel myself - because, y'know, INDEPENDENCE.
So I recently went for a wheelchair assessment. It turns out that, when you're 6'3", wheelchairs don't get all that light.
But my new one (which arrived earlier this week - God bless the NHS) does come apart easily so it should help. Plus the wheels seem to have some kind of coating on them which means it's easier for me to grip them and, hopefully, propel myself. RESULT.
Although (FULL DISCLOSURE) it is currently taking up the position vacated by my old wheelchair, in a cupboard under the stairs. Baby steps, yeah?
2. Physiotherapy
Yep, I'm going round again - I think this is my fourth time, still working on strengthening my core and sorting my wonky legs. I've only had a couple of sessions so far (and one of those definitely had the emphasis on "Therapy" - God bless the NHS) but plenty of stuff to work on.
And if I can't find the time to do my exercises when I remain resolutely BETWEEN JOBS then there's no excuse.
3. Orthotics
I saw them a while ago (turns out it was seven years ago) when I was fitted with a delightful support stocking for my truculent westward pin. This appointment was a bit more challenging, as the person I saw said that my right leg is now as bad as lefty was previously (hence a new delightful stocking).
Westy has gone even further downhill so I've been given this monstrosity, called an Ankle Foot Othosis:
It's basically a really intense splint which fits inside my shoe and helps to give that much-needed kick. I have to wear it for an hour a day at first in order to get used to it - it's really exhausting and I'll need to inform the DVLA before I try to drive with it on but it DOES help. Bastard.
I'll be taking it to my next physio session as a challenge - "what can you do to keep me from wearing THIS?"
PS - this was given to me on the spot at no cost - God save the NHS.
Friday 19 May 2017
Monday 15 May 2017
will (home) work for food. and money
Aside from that, one of my other top time sponges is the filling-in of endless benefit forms - Housing benefit, two separate forms for PIP, two for ESA so far with the promise of one more to come. Joy unconfined.
Which doesn't leave a whole lot of time (or energy) for looking for work, which has been on my mind a lot recently. This is because, leaving aside the aforementioned 5-monthiversary, I've realised that I can't really envisage a time when I'll feel able to work full time again.
When I look back to last year, I wonder how I managed to drag myself to work every day (without fail), even without considering the extra hours, weekend and holiday work, or how so very dispiriting that whole process was.
I feel better in myself but I think I'm spending a little too much time in my own head at the moment. Having said that I can't see me wanting to do any work which isn't home-based. The jobs are out there, I just need my applications to hit the right spot.
I had a fairly depressing realisation recently. A friend asked if I was enjoying my current short contract role - helping to coordinate marketing activity for this, which allows me to say I'm still part of the CULTURAL ELITE.
I said that I was loving it - the work is all about proofreading, copywriting/editing, brand management and partner coordination, which are all my favourite things to do (with a side order of BEING AN ARSE ABOUT GRAMMAR). But, I said, the main thing I like about it is that the people I'm working with are genuinely appreciative of and grateful for everything I do.
As soon as I said it, I thought: when you think I was in my last job for nine years, don't you think that's just a little bit sad?
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