Tag Archives: disability

Day 199 (Part 2)

Outside, the sky is yellow and hazy. It’s not pleasant, but it is probably a fitting end to a day that included a new British temperature record (40.3 degrees C in Lincolnshire, an increase of 0.1 degrees on the record set at Heathrow in the middle of the day.)

I used Tesco Whoosh to order groceries when Julia cam home after work. They had run out of ice cream but they did have ice, beer and cream cakes. They don’t all appear in the recommended ways to combat the heat, but if that’s what she wants, that’s what I order. Having spent most of my day inside, I didn’t need beer, but the ice, when placed near the living room fan, worked well. And the cake – a cream slice, was nice and cool too.

The rest of the day was mixed. I sent a group of tanka off to the British Haiku Society Anthology editor yesterday and had notification of acceptance today. He chose the one i had been least happy with, but that’s life. It was a bit of a cheat because members are guaranteed to have one accepted. However, I’m in a slump and wanted (a) a success and (b) one more acceptance to make it number 100. Now I’ve reached the 100 mark I am going to give up counting. It seems like a milestone but really it’s just a number, and no indication of quality.

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad on Pexels.com

This was slightly marred by the interview I listened to last night where a writer said that publication doesn’t seem as important after the “first 1,000”. I doubt I could write 1,000 good poems.

I had a phone call on the land line. It didn’t ring long and I missed it. Same thing happened twenty minutes later. I counted the rings – seven. Who rings a landline and quits after seven rings. Who rings a landline apart from nuisance callers? The answer to that is The National Health Service. Despite knowing that I work and prefer contact via my mobile at least one of them prefers to use the land line for purposes of security and clarity of connection. Practicality and my preferences have no part in the process.

I contacted the Treatment Centre and was told they had tried to contact me twice and I would now have to make another appointment. I explained that they had hardly let the phone ring, and that they knew I preferred contact by mobile as I am rarely home, but the answer was still the same. It’s the results of my chest X-Ray, which I need before I can start my new arthritis treatment. That has all had to be put back two weeks because someone is too lazy to use their notes or let a phone ring. You’d think that having tried the land line they would have tried the mobile number.

Then, having waited for the phone appointment that never came, I was free to ring the Court about getting permission to use a taxi to court for my jury service. They don’t have parking for people with mobility problems, and bus/tram isn’t practical for various reasons.

I opened my email to get the phone number, but found I had another email from the court. They have written to the Jury Summoning Bureau to have me excused from serving. It seems there will be quite a bit of walking in the court and (the real reason, I feel) they don’t generally pay for taxis, despite mentioning it in the documentation.

Looks like I’m officially a cripple now,and not required to do my civic duty. Not sure whether I’m happy or not. I was looking forward to seeing how the system worked, but I am relieved I won’t have to spend two weeks sitting listening to lawyers twisting words. I’m now considering whether to become an advocate for disabled rights – are disabled people to be excluded from their civic duty because it’s inconvenient for the court?

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Now, where was I?

As far as the blog is concerned I’m eating cake in Derbyshire. In real life I am back in Nottingham, where I passed three increasingly unpleasant days at work and finally had a day of rest.

Today, Sunday, I had a lie in, read, shopped, snacked, snoozed and cooked.

As I speak, I am on the verge of serving ratatouille with Lincolnshire sausages, and also have a pan of vegetarian cottage pie filling simmering away. Tomorrow we will have the pie, with a topping of mash, and on Wednesday we will have the remains of the ratatouille, probably with a baked potato.

We used to serve Italian style sausages with the ratatouille (Italian style meaning British sausages with Italian flavoured fillings) but they cost more and didn’t taste as good as a Lincolnshire sausage.

They are also better for use in sandwiches, and tomorrow we will have sausage sandwiches for lunch.

And that, for the benefit of future researchers, is the way middle-aged  men and their wives spent their winter Sundays in the early 21st Centuries. By the early 22nd Century you will probably need a license to own a sausage, or at least pay a punitive tax, and the use of plastic wrappings will be superseded by the use of potato-starch substitutes which can be composted or used as a topping on pies.

TESCO Top Valley - an hour later

TESCO Top Valley – an hour later

While I was looking for a potato starch/plastic links I found this one. It’s one of my favourite subjects, but I wouldn’t advise reading it if you are eating. In the 22nd Century people will probably wonder why we ever thought cremation was a good idea.

Back to work.

On Thursday I was referred to as “disabled” by my co-worker. It’s funny what goes through people’s minds. We were discussing whether coin dealers would have made it to heaven in Egyptian times as we spend a lot of times destroying dreams when people ring up with a “valuable” coin. I checked this up – I think we’re OK. If you read this, it’s about doing good deeds, not necessarily about valuing coins.

We moved on to Christianity and he asked me if I thought I would still be disabled in Heaven or if all would be corrected. This was news to me, as I didn’t realise I was disabled. Anyway, as I pointed out, we don’t go to Heaven after we die, we have to wait for the general resurrection and, theologically, only need a skull and two femurs (the Skull and Crossbones) to gain eternal life, so I’m not sure a dodgy knee comes into play at any time.

I then asked him if he saw me as “disabled”. He changed the subject.

We then move on to a couple of days of him continually arguing with the shop owner about minor details of what we do. It’s like being in the middle of a divorcing couple. Fortunately I was given a set of ear plugs last week (the reason is too long and involved to explain) so on Saturday afternoon I put them in. It helped cut out some of the noise.

 

Sometimes, when there is no other subject, I take pictures of wheels.

A Trip to the Seaside

We went to Llandudno on Monday. It was unexpected, because I was thinking of going for a blood test followed by a day of loafing and odd jobs.

On checking  the appointment card as I set off, I noticed that I was going to be early for the appointment. A week early.  It was truly an epic senior moment. When I reach the end of my life and it all flashes before my eyes, this will definitely be one from the top drawer.

Talking about the end of my life, it’s just over two years ago since we last went, and a lot has changed. Llandudno has gone slightly downhill in that time. I, on the other hand, have deteriorated to a frightening degree. It’s definitely time to start taking my health more seriously.

Instead of shuffling and muttering as I walked, as I did two years ago, I was having to stop for a rest every 400 yards (or 200 by the end of the day). Fortunately Llandudno is accustomed to the elderly and infirm (it looked like an advert for mobility aids as we walked round the centre of town) and is well-provided with benches.

Sorry, I somehow I seem to have drifted to Llandudno without getting to the point of the Senior Moment anecdote. The point is that it was 7am, we had the day ahead of us and it was the first day of the holidays.

I pointed this out to Julia, who poked her head from under the duvet and growled.

She didn’t seem overly grateful to be given the chance of a day at the seaside.

Despite this, as you may have noticed, we ended up at the seaside. I had a list  of piers and a thirst for ice cream. Julia had a slightly bemused expression.

For details of what happened next, read the next installment. As a teaser, it includes gulls, piers and ice cream…

Unfortunately, when I won’t be able to show any photos today as the Netbook is refusing to work with the camera card. It wants to format the disk, which as I recall, means it wants to wipe it. For some reason it does this from time to time.

As a result the tales of Llandudno are put on hold, as I want to use photos with the story.

Looks like tomorrow will be “Blanket Weed at Budby Flash”. Not quite as interesting, but it does at least have photos.