Good news! September finally saw completion of the sale of our Cuckfield house, a full year after it first went on the market. It was a relief to see it go, tinged with sadness at the loss of our last physical link with Sussex after nearly 20 years. But we still have good friends there.
Our son, Adam, is back living in London, and not missing his daily commute. Doreen went down to Cuckfield for a few days to oversee final clearance and cleaning of the house before handover. While she was away, my sister, Kate, very kindly came and stayed here to ‘babysit’ me. I think she quite enjoyed being able to boss her ‘little’ brother as she used to do when we were children!
The sale of the house has kept me occupied, cancelling all the utility accounts, insurance policies, etc. We are also approaching the anniversary of acquisition of our house in Nottingham, so things like house insurance are up for renewal here, too. In addition to all these tasks, watching the end of the Ashes test cricket series and the start of the Rugby World Cup (it would be churlish not to), and quite a few medical appointments, it really was a busy month.
Last week, we visited three different hospitals in four days. Tuesday saw us at Nottingham’s City Hospital to have my new red (Nottingham Forest colours!) electric wheelchair adjusted to fit me. On Wednesday we had the 3-monthly visit to Sheffield as part of the clinical trial. On Friday I had to go to Nottingham’s main Queen’s Medical Centre for an echo-cardiogram, a follow-up test investigating why my ‘broken’ foot is still swollen five months after my fall. I have to wait for a report to reach my GP but the radiographer didn’t think there was much wrong.
I wrote, 3 months ago, about our last visit to Sheffield Hospital and the difficulty finding the car park’s wheelchair exit. We thought it would be easier this time, knowing the ropes, but we couldn’t even get into the car park which was full, or into a drop-off bay because of parked cars. We had to circle the hospital until the car park re-opened. Even then, we had to wait until someone vacated a ground-floor parking space. It took an hour from arrival at the hospital to reporting in at Neuroscience, half an hour late.
My physical deterioration continues slowly with my hands, in particular, becoming less and less functional. I now need Doreen’s help dressing and undressing. On one occasion, this resulted in me going out to lunch wearing odd socks, but I gather that is quite trendy these days. It has also led to me having my trousers put on backwards twice (Doreen wants me to emphasise ‘only twice’!)
Living life mainly in a wheelchair brings with it new experiences and a different outlook on life. We met some old friends recently for a lovely lunch at a country house hotel. The hotel had helpfully suggested we park as near the entrance as possible and display our blue badge. A wheelchair ramp allowed access into the hotel, and our lunch table was set with an easily accessible space for me to wheel into. When lunch was over, I decided I’d better visit the Gents before the drive home. Unfortunately, the doorway into the men’s toilet was so narrow the wheelchair just wouldn’t go through it. The young woman at reception suggested I use the Ladies but there was somebody in there, so we waited; and waited. After some time, the receptionist checked again and, yes, the same lady was still in there. What was she doing?!! Eventually, she did emerge, and I was able to get in and use the ladies toilet while my companions ‘guarded’ the door. The next user might have wondered why the toilet seat was left up in a ladies toilet!