The results, in brief:
- I need a wheelchair. Quick. It took them more than a year to assess me. Spurred on by the magnificent Sally, I finally kicked off big style last week and they turned up. Now I'm told that although my case is likely to be prioritised, I could still face a wait of another year, possibly two, for an actual wheelchair.
- I am too ill for physio. A physio visited me at home to tell me that if they have to do home visits they generally consider a patient too fragile for treatment. I am too fragile to be mucked about with, or to do exercises, that much is true. But she did deliver the news in a slightly 'irritated to have been called out' manner. Well don't come then. I've got plenty of things I'd rather be doing too!
- I will soon be in receipt of a grabby stick and not so soon (social services involved) various rails and ramps will be installed. I envisage having a ramp for a wheelchair, ooh, at least a year before the chair itself. That's if the landlady doesn't throw up her hands at the prospect of alterations, albeit all temporary ones.
So there you have it. Tape measures and discussions galore, and yet I suspect nothing much will happen very imminently. So I will settle back into the quiet life of being chronically ill without much input. And sometimes, that seems more appealing than a lot of fuss and bother that seems to go nowhere. Then my GP called today to say a nurse will be round on Monday to do 'some blood tests.' *!!*!??? why now all of a sudden, unprompted? It's the bus situation again. They really do all come at once. I'm off to watch some gardening programmes and have a nice cup of tea.