Wheelchair and grandparents

I have no idea what’s happening with my wheelchair brake locks at this point. No one bothers to fill me in, and if I don’t call the medical supply shop then I don’t know. I didn’t call in today. Even if I call things are not always clear.

I went to bed on Wednesday feeling pretty good about the situation. OK, Mobility hadn’t contacted the Locks guy, but since he responded to my email I thought everything was taken care of.

When I checked my email on Thursday morning, I found out that the parts that were ordered were for a different model than the one I was getting and wouldn’t fit. The brakes man was smart enough to NOT just send it along, but couldn’t change the parts he was sending without a changed order from the supply place. I called Mobility right away, and supposedly it was going to be straightened out. But they never called me back, and didn’t call today either.

I’ll call tomorrow to find out:
1 – did my chair arrive, or is it expected today
2 – can I come see it today or Monday
3 – did the whole brakes thing get squared away, and the right part ordered
4 – when they expect those to arrive, if they haven’t already
5 – when can I come in to get it assembled!

I fully expect something to be wrong with the chair. I just hope it’s something that can be easily replaced or fixed. If the frame is the wrong size it will mean sending it back to the factory.

The problem is that the setup of the medical shop is just asking for trouble. It’s like the game of “telephone” that we used to play as kids. You whisper in one person’s ear, who whispers to another, and down the line. By the time it goes around 10 kids it sounds totally different. I fill out a form and give it to the customer service rep in the shop, who hands it over to purchasing. They translate it into one set of codes for insurance (only listing the parts that have a cost to them) and into another set of codes to transmit to the manufacturer. There are at least 2 hands (eyes, brains) who process what I say before the manufacturing people get the request. I wish I could just communicate with the Tilite people directly – but insurance doesn’t like that.

The source of the problem with the locks seems to be that they don’t really have an order form, and that their price list of 2008 doesn’t have the newest model (my model) of chair on it. So, the medical shop just plugged in what they thought was the most similar.

And the problem is compounded by the fact that the Locks shop is so tiny, with only one man to contact, and he travels a lot.

This is terribly boring. I’m just writing down what’s going on. To summarize- more waiting.
I spent the day at home today, not unusual. And on those days, not much happens that I would say are disability connected. Sure there is the extra time to get dressed, perhaps to do other tasks at home. But overall my days at home don’t leave me feeling like my disability shapes my activities or slows me down.

Only one thing reminded me of my disability today, and even that one was as much an aging issue as a disability one. Sometimes these are hard to separate.

I remember as a child that my grandfather (father’s father) used to eat corn on the cob, but only after he scraped every kernel with this sharp fork like instrument. He proceeded to eat the corn more or less sucking out the insides of each kernel and leaving the skins behind attached to the husk. I thought it was disgusting, not to mention a ridiculous way to eat corn! But today, after having corn on the cob for dinner yesterday, I have wondered if I’m headed down the same path as my grandfather, and I believe my father as well.

I’ve inherited other things from Poppop as well – low blood pressure, bad hearing. He lived to age 86, pretty respectable I say, but in the end he had a host of digestive problems. My understanding from the last time I talked to my father, was that he has digestive problems now too. Dad’s hearing is really poor also. He needed a hearing aid 10 years ago at least, but never got one. Poppop did get a hearing aid, but hated it.

This year I’ll get my hearing tested again, which I’ve done every 2 years since 2002, when I first started noticing difficulty hearing in conference rooms. My hearing has stayed about the same, just borderline where a hearing aid might help. If it gets any worse, I’ll give them a try. I don’t know my father’s reasons for not giving them a try – vanity or money or both. Technology has gotten so much better than the days my grandfather tried them (early 1980s) and I have no vanity in this regard.

My blood pressure has always been low. Actually as I’ve gotten older it’s gone up a bit, and I’m more comfortable. Still, if I have lunch out, have to push myself to the car, and get in a hot car, 9 times out of 10 I’ll be too lightheaded to drive for 15 minutes till the car cools down and I get acclimated. One day recently I was feeling so draggy, so got out the cuff at home – 80/55. Luckily it was evening, so I went to bed, and felt better the next morning.

Today though, it’s the corn that’s been disturbing me, making me uncomfortable. I don’t know if my grandfather or even my father had irritable bowel syndrome or diverticulosis like I do, but I suspect Poppop did. My dad just complains of indigestion, and has a history of stomach ulcers. I believe we’ve all had hemorrhoids too.

I think the disability difference is not the cause of the discomfort, but the way it shows in symptoms, and perhaps I am lucky in this regard. Instead of pain, I’ve been having episodes of mild autonomic dysreflexia on and off all day. I can feel my blood pressure rise, with a mild sweatiness around midchest and a mild headache. It’s uncomfortable, but not painful, and so not dangerous. It’s just a reminder that corn on the cob should follow nuts in the list of ‘foods to eat in small quantities”. I can handle this. My body is getting older and can’t handle all the same foods. The symptoms are different, but all the same, my family heritage is asserting itself.

I was very fond of Poppop and Grandmom, and have wonderful memories of them both. Grandmom was a birder, and knew all the birds that came to her backyard. She would sit at her kitchen window playing cards (solitaire mostly) and watching the birds out back. She never worked at a job, and never learned to drive, but she was always busy and knew everyone in the neighborhood. In summer they would hang their laundry out in the backyards. In winter it hung in the basement, till one day they finally got a dryer. Poppop went to a trade school and was a factory foreman. In his heart he was a tinkerer, and would have made a fine engineer. But I think he was happy with his life. He was brought up Mennonite, the 8th and youngest child in the family, and his father died when he was young. His mother owned and ran a hotel and all the kids had duties related to the hotel’s running. Compared to the rest of his family, he was more educated (due to a scholarship) and did well. In the summer he had the most amazing vegetable garden – lettuces, carrots, beets, beans, corn, squash, tomatoes. The things you remember – he was immune to poison ivy, and no one could beat him at darts or quoits.

Their house was in the suburbs of Philadelphia, about a 45 minute drive away, so we didn’t see them very frequently, but on most holidays and birthdays. In summer we might spend a week there. I loved spending time with them. Their house was small and cramped, with one bedroom and no way to escape hearing Poppop’s snoring, but overall it was calmer and happier than my own home. I mention them not just because of the corn today, but because I’m working up to talking about parenting, and in some ways my grandparents were role models for me, especially my grandmother. My mother might not like to hear this, but when I think about how I was as a parent, it’s more like Grandmom than Mom. These days, my personality seems more similar to my mother’s, and even our activities and interests now are more alike. But from the parenting years, I took more from Grandmom.