Stiletto and wheels Stiletto title Sole to sole Stiletto

STILETTO – a high pointed HEEL on a woman’s shoe or a small dagger.

WHEELS – a medieval instrument of torture or a vehicle for personal mobility. title
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Hello, October. September cannot be over soon enough for me. Am I the only person in a wheelchair, struggling like hell and thinking— crap, I’ve had enough of this? OK, I know I’m not but this month has been bad even by my – low – standards.

In the first weekend of September, our car battery died on us (less than a year old!), so no transport. Yes, we got the recovery man out but ... still housebound!

In the second weekend of September, the ramp on our car broke down – no transport again so we missed all that weekend’s social events. Contacted the conversion firm on Monday who reminded EaZyD of the reboot button in the boot that he’d forgotten about. After pressing this, the ramp was fine ... oops!

The third weekend in September, The Royal Court Theatre called on the Saturday to say their lift was broken down. We couldn’t do an alternative date so they gave us free tickets for another play of our choice. Great recovery but, hey, no Faith Machine for us that weekend. On the same weekend, Sunday, we went across to MyVue at Westfield and their lift had broken down – no Tinker, Tailor to see either. Total washout ... again!

Last week, I went across to my dentist of 35 years(!) to discover he was retiring. Well, fine, but did he have to make that my problem? Yes, it seems he did as his replacement took one look at me and said: I don’t know about this. People like you… As if going to the dentist weren’t bad enough, I have to get a wheelchair bigot?!

And, yesterday, my house lift – working perfectly – was given a service and today, one of the doors doesn’t work! As I type this, I am waiting for the 24/7 engineer.

On top of all of this, I need a referral about my skin cancer and can I get a GP out to see me? No, 2 bookings and three cancellations later, it seems not. Cancer, chronic neurological illness, deafness, anaemia – all at the same time. How ill d’ya have to be for a GP to give a toss?

Then, I had to replace my blue badge that we lost over a year ago – OK, my bad, shoot me if you want but it happens! Social services insisted we report it, IN PERSON, wait five days ‘in case it turns up’ (like the year wasn't long enough?) which it didn’t (surprise!), go back and piss away an afternoon queuing in a ticket system to see someone we could PAY to replace it - another afternoon lost.

People, EaZyD does, you know, WORK! In the middle of all this, he’s flying about Europe, I’m trying to manage all the extra carers as well as all the usual shopping, domestic, therapist things that need doing.

How much time does anyone have to deal with all this crap? I spend 80% of my time doing stuff I hate, or waiting for people to help me do stuff I hate, and the rest sleeping and trying to do some stuff I actually like doing.

Does it help getting it off my chest? Actually, no. Too much grind: not enough laughs. I just want it all to stop.

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