Well, we've had the new car for a week now and it remains unscratched and undented. Polly has discovered Sport on the gear stick and now uses it whenever there is a bend in the road or a hill, or indeed, a tree by the side of the road. She is still getting use to the football pitch length of the vehicle and we have had to massively cut back a bush to get it into our parking space.
We are off to Wales on Monday for two weeks so if you don't hear from me it is because I am in the land of my fathers and wireless broadband access is rarer than hens teeth. If I can post I will but the odds are against it. Talking of Wales, I would like to take this opportunity to thank the people at the Paul Sartori Foundation who have bent over backwards to make arrangements to organise care and equipment for our holiday. It must seem to them that accommodating the Deal's for a fortnight is more hassle than sorting out care needs in the rest of Pembrokeshire. I assure them we do appreciate the hard work.
Today a man from Possum came to fit a bracket to my wheelchair that can hold the Possum environmental control unit I have had for a while. This little grey box of electronic wizardry can operate all kinds of equipment, including the TV, the lamp, the back gate opener, and the front door intercom and opener. Up until now it has sat frustratingly just out of reach of me and the children have used it as one of the world's most expensive light-switches. Now it is attached to my chair. The only problem being, what with the already attached Neater Arm, my wheelchair is now the length of a pantecnicon. I have the turning circle of a bendy-bus and the chair is beginning to look more than a little Heath-Robinson. I am not safe to be out when there is even the merest hint of an electrical storm.
Right, I'm off to push random buttons on my gadgets to see if I can launch a nuclear strike.
Showing posts with label Vehicle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vehicle. Show all posts
Friday, 7 August 2009
Saturday, 1 August 2009
The New Car Cometh
Well the new car has arrived, diamond black and the length of a cruise ship. We were expecting it to arrive sometime on Thursday afternoon but the driver delivering it had set off from the Wirral at 4.00am and arrived at about a quarter to breakfast. This meant we were able to take the gleaming new vehicle out for a spin for lunch.
The Caddy has an automatic transmission but Polly has only ever driven a manual so our first drive was accompanied by little shrieks of panic as she tried to stamp on the missing clutch and pointlessly reach for the gear-stick. Within minutes though she was driving like a pro and we all began to relax. We picked up Pam, Polly's mum, and headed down the A3 to Painshill where we sat outside in the sunshine and had some lunch and Polly stopped shaking.
The Caddy is much longer than the old Kangoo so I feel as if I am sitting a long way back from the driver. Polly suggests that we put up a grill behind the rear passenger seats and I can bark and drool from my position in the back. The only thing I find truly annoying about our glorious new Deal-Mobile is that there is no way to play an Ipod or MP3 player through the car stereo which for a car design so new seems ridiculous to me. A trip to Halfords appears inevitable. On one of the many plus sides, having side doors to allow the children in and out without them clambering all over the fronts seats is such an improvement on the old van that I find myself wondering why we didn't take an acetylene torch and cut our own. We also have air-conditioning so in the height of summer it is marginally warmer in our car than outside.
My friend PJ has been reading me reviews of the Volkswagon Caddy Maxi which agree the vehicle is good value for money but point out that because it is a van conversion, we passengers are essentially the human equivalent of plumbing equipment or frozen pizza. Well, if nothing else, we are comfortable, air-conditioned, cargo. Other reviewers besmirch Caddy owners as being people whose fecundity outstrips their budget. Uncomfortably close to the truth in our case.
When I was a child it was my ultimate vehicular ambition to have a car with electric windows. At the time the only cars that had such sophistication were luxury cars like Rolls-Royce's and Bentley's. Now I can bellow down the length of the vehicle and Polly can push a button and miraculously windows slide effortlessly down. I feel like a shouty millionaire.
We can not thank my family enough for their immense generosity in enabling us to possess our diamond black, wheelchair accessible vehicle. I always knew letting my little brother beat me at Subuteo when I was 8 would pay off in the end. Thank you.
The Caddy has an automatic transmission but Polly has only ever driven a manual so our first drive was accompanied by little shrieks of panic as she tried to stamp on the missing clutch and pointlessly reach for the gear-stick. Within minutes though she was driving like a pro and we all began to relax. We picked up Pam, Polly's mum, and headed down the A3 to Painshill where we sat outside in the sunshine and had some lunch and Polly stopped shaking.
The Caddy is much longer than the old Kangoo so I feel as if I am sitting a long way back from the driver. Polly suggests that we put up a grill behind the rear passenger seats and I can bark and drool from my position in the back. The only thing I find truly annoying about our glorious new Deal-Mobile is that there is no way to play an Ipod or MP3 player through the car stereo which for a car design so new seems ridiculous to me. A trip to Halfords appears inevitable. On one of the many plus sides, having side doors to allow the children in and out without them clambering all over the fronts seats is such an improvement on the old van that I find myself wondering why we didn't take an acetylene torch and cut our own. We also have air-conditioning so in the height of summer it is marginally warmer in our car than outside.
My friend PJ has been reading me reviews of the Volkswagon Caddy Maxi which agree the vehicle is good value for money but point out that because it is a van conversion, we passengers are essentially the human equivalent of plumbing equipment or frozen pizza. Well, if nothing else, we are comfortable, air-conditioned, cargo. Other reviewers besmirch Caddy owners as being people whose fecundity outstrips their budget. Uncomfortably close to the truth in our case.
When I was a child it was my ultimate vehicular ambition to have a car with electric windows. At the time the only cars that had such sophistication were luxury cars like Rolls-Royce's and Bentley's. Now I can bellow down the length of the vehicle and Polly can push a button and miraculously windows slide effortlessly down. I feel like a shouty millionaire.
We can not thank my family enough for their immense generosity in enabling us to possess our diamond black, wheelchair accessible vehicle. I always knew letting my little brother beat me at Subuteo when I was 8 would pay off in the end. Thank you.
Tuesday, 28 July 2009
Bits And Pieces
This, as the title suggests, is post of little bits of news, updates and observations. As I write I find myself in a slightly peculiar situation. Polly has gone to Buckingham Palace with her mother for the day and I am left here with the children. The Buckingham Palace visit was arranged as a birthday present for Pam and involves a tour of the state rooms and various exhibitions, but not, as both Pam and Polly secretly wish for, a chance to poke around Her Majesty's and Prince Phillip's private quarters. I am, however, not left alone with boys. Polly decided to make use of some of the help offered to us by various agencies at a meeting held a while back. As a result I am writing this with a woman sat silently in the corner of my living room. She is poised to do my bidding but I don't have anything to bid her to do. The boys are behaving in an exemplary manner, happily engaged in various games and I am finding it vaguely disconcerting having a stranger sat watching our every move. I'm sure she is very nice. I just don't know what to do with her. I'm busy writing this so I can pretend to be busy and not have to talk to her.
We have had the boys for nine and five years respectively and have managed not to break them. Then, in the course of one week, we discover that Sam has had urinary reflux and could, theoretically, have damaged his kidneys and that Matty needs glasses. Sam has always been prone to urinary tract infections but it is only after this weeks ultra-sound scan that we discovered how potentially serious it could be. Fortunately the kidneys don't appear to have suffered any damage, being of normal size and shape, but further tests may be needed to check for scarring. We have noticed Matty squinting a little recently and so Polly took him to the optician. He returned home sporting a rather smart pair of glasses which he now will be wearing most of time. Matty is not particularly upset by this because glasses are quite trendy at the moment at school and he reckons he suits the geek-chic look.
Meanwhile, we are breathless with excitement as the new car is due to arrive on Thursday. I can hardly wait. Polly, however, has had her patience tested to the limit getting the new car insured. Despite every other TV ad being for car insurance, getting an adapted vehicle insured can be tricky. You need to approach a specialist broker, of which there are a few but nowhere near the number available to non-adapted vehicle owners. We have had the old Renault Kangoo van insured at a reasonable rate with a company and were happy to transfer the cover to the new Volkswagon Caddy. Only the Volkswagon Caddy is not a van but a car. You might suppose we intend to drive our new car to Basra via Helmand province carrying crystal chandeliers and open bottles of Nitroglycerin by the amount of time it took Polly to complete the transaction. She was on the phone for over an hour and a half. Normally we like to insure our vehicles for anyone over 25 to drive. Now you have to be over 30 and have the proven ability to yodel whilst reversing.
Right, I'm off to see if my lurking stranger can teach the kids country dancing or something.
Until next time.
We have had the boys for nine and five years respectively and have managed not to break them. Then, in the course of one week, we discover that Sam has had urinary reflux and could, theoretically, have damaged his kidneys and that Matty needs glasses. Sam has always been prone to urinary tract infections but it is only after this weeks ultra-sound scan that we discovered how potentially serious it could be. Fortunately the kidneys don't appear to have suffered any damage, being of normal size and shape, but further tests may be needed to check for scarring. We have noticed Matty squinting a little recently and so Polly took him to the optician. He returned home sporting a rather smart pair of glasses which he now will be wearing most of time. Matty is not particularly upset by this because glasses are quite trendy at the moment at school and he reckons he suits the geek-chic look.
Meanwhile, we are breathless with excitement as the new car is due to arrive on Thursday. I can hardly wait. Polly, however, has had her patience tested to the limit getting the new car insured. Despite every other TV ad being for car insurance, getting an adapted vehicle insured can be tricky. You need to approach a specialist broker, of which there are a few but nowhere near the number available to non-adapted vehicle owners. We have had the old Renault Kangoo van insured at a reasonable rate with a company and were happy to transfer the cover to the new Volkswagon Caddy. Only the Volkswagon Caddy is not a van but a car. You might suppose we intend to drive our new car to Basra via Helmand province carrying crystal chandeliers and open bottles of Nitroglycerin by the amount of time it took Polly to complete the transaction. She was on the phone for over an hour and a half. Normally we like to insure our vehicles for anyone over 25 to drive. Now you have to be over 30 and have the proven ability to yodel whilst reversing.
Right, I'm off to see if my lurking stranger can teach the kids country dancing or something.
Until next time.
Friday, 5 June 2009
Mobility Roadshow
The problem with not having blogged recently is that I have a backlog news and views to impart. For example, I have been beset by community physiotherapists, speech therapists and OTs who have all made eminently sensible suggestions and any one of them would have made for a good post. I also made the journey to King's Hospital to see Dr Rose and his team where I was assessed and plans were drawn up, strategies devised and letters arranged to be written. Dr Rose also, and most importantly, helped me to get a handle on what has been happening to me regarding my Muscular Dystrophy.
The last few months have seen a disconcertingly rapid slide in my condition which shows no sign of slowing. Since Christmas I have lost the ability to raise my arm to feed myself (although that's been slightly compensated for by my bionic arm) and, most alarmingly, the core muscles around my trunk have weakened to the point where my balance is severely compromised. The continual micro-adjustments needed to stay upright are exhausting and painful. A lesser man than myself would moan and probably sink into deep depression and write a blog telling the world about his problems. A lesser man might, I however will only mention it in passing. According to Dr Rose the Dystrophy is not accelerating but continuing on it's natural slow decline at a steady rate. What has occurred recently is that several muscle groups have reached a kind of tipping point and, like a Labour cabinet minister, given up their support. Believe me their disloyalty will not be forgotten. The net result is that I have to work a awful lot harder to maintain the physical ability I had last year, last month, or even last week. Time to act.
I need a new wheelchair. More about that soon.
Yesterday we all headed west to Cirencester and the Mobility Roadshow to look at wheelchair accessible vans. It was a lovely sunny day and we were up and off at the crack of dawn to travel more than one hundred miles to an airfield in the heart of the countryside. There we looked at a dozen or more vehicle conversions.
It was great meeting a few of the readers of this blog in the real rather than virtual world as we wandered around dodging people test driving their new scooters and exhibitors handing out forest loads of leaflets promoting products like wheelchair slippers.
In the end we settled on a Volkswagon Caddy Maxi conversion by Lewis Reed, a car that seats 5 plus a wheelchair. You would be amazed at the variations that can be achieved on the same base vehicle. Some of the wheelchair entry ramps required a weight-lifter on steroids to lift them and others a Mensa level IQ to work out how to operate them. Some of the conversions seemed to have favoured plastic as their primary construction material. Unfortunately they have valued it gram for gram as gold.
In case you think we must have won the lottery we can only afford a new car because I have an incredibly lovely and generous brother and sister.
We eventually made it home just in time for the carers to put exhausted little old me to bed. Unfortunately my profiling bed decided to take this opportunity to breakdown. It would go up but not down. By the time we had fiddled around it ended up stuck five feet in the air. I spent the night hovering above Polly with her gazing up adoringly at me.
More soon.
The last few months have seen a disconcertingly rapid slide in my condition which shows no sign of slowing. Since Christmas I have lost the ability to raise my arm to feed myself (although that's been slightly compensated for by my bionic arm) and, most alarmingly, the core muscles around my trunk have weakened to the point where my balance is severely compromised. The continual micro-adjustments needed to stay upright are exhausting and painful. A lesser man than myself would moan and probably sink into deep depression and write a blog telling the world about his problems. A lesser man might, I however will only mention it in passing. According to Dr Rose the Dystrophy is not accelerating but continuing on it's natural slow decline at a steady rate. What has occurred recently is that several muscle groups have reached a kind of tipping point and, like a Labour cabinet minister, given up their support. Believe me their disloyalty will not be forgotten. The net result is that I have to work a awful lot harder to maintain the physical ability I had last year, last month, or even last week. Time to act.
I need a new wheelchair. More about that soon.
Yesterday we all headed west to Cirencester and the Mobility Roadshow to look at wheelchair accessible vans. It was a lovely sunny day and we were up and off at the crack of dawn to travel more than one hundred miles to an airfield in the heart of the countryside. There we looked at a dozen or more vehicle conversions.
It was great meeting a few of the readers of this blog in the real rather than virtual world as we wandered around dodging people test driving their new scooters and exhibitors handing out forest loads of leaflets promoting products like wheelchair slippers.
In the end we settled on a Volkswagon Caddy Maxi conversion by Lewis Reed, a car that seats 5 plus a wheelchair. You would be amazed at the variations that can be achieved on the same base vehicle. Some of the wheelchair entry ramps required a weight-lifter on steroids to lift them and others a Mensa level IQ to work out how to operate them. Some of the conversions seemed to have favoured plastic as their primary construction material. Unfortunately they have valued it gram for gram as gold.
In case you think we must have won the lottery we can only afford a new car because I have an incredibly lovely and generous brother and sister.
We eventually made it home just in time for the carers to put exhausted little old me to bed. Unfortunately my profiling bed decided to take this opportunity to breakdown. It would go up but not down. By the time we had fiddled around it ended up stuck five feet in the air. I spent the night hovering above Polly with her gazing up adoringly at me.
More soon.
Monday, 19 January 2009
A Tale Of Theft And Criminal Damage
I don't know, what is the world coming to? Theft and criminal damage visited upon children and the disabled. No, don't worry, you haven't accidentally happened on the Daily Mail website, it's still me. It's been a miserable few days thanks to a couple of miserable events. Polly and Sam's godmother, the lovely Stacey, took the boys to the park the other day. The boys rode their Flashing Storm scooters as they often do and left them as usual against the fence. It was cold and starting to get dark so they didn't play for long. Just a quick nip up the climbing wall and a whiz round on the round-about and back home. Only when they went to collect the scooters, as they have a thousand times before, they were gone. Stolen, nicked, made off with. Some heartless bastard had scooted off with my boys precious wheels.
The boys were devastated, particularly Matty, and felt suddenly vulnerable in a place they had previously felt safe in. Sam was more put out by the fact that he would now have to walk home. I suppose it would be unchristian of me to hope the wheels fall off and a trip to casualty ensues.
Then, on Saturday, Polly was working in Wimbledon and was parked on the street. When she returned from entertaining a pack of little darlings to load her equipment back into the van she found that some numpty had driven into the back of it with one of those metal tow bar fixtures you attach caravans or trailers to. The resulting damage means that the ramp no longer works and I can't use our van any more. We will have to take it to a body repair shop and have bits welded back together at vast expense and inconvenience. Thank you whoever you are. I hope the lump of metal on the back of your vehicle did not suffer too much damage.
So, if anyone offers you some cheap children's scooters, let me know. And if their car has a slightly damaged tow bar with flecks of white paint on it, do me a favour and let their tyres down.
On a completely different and happier note I would like to congratulate my friend Alistair Kevin Daniel on the confirmation of his doctorate. I'm still not exactly sure what semiotics is, but it's good to know they are in such safe hands. I'm very proud of you Dr Daniel, well done. If ever there was a man born to wear scarlet medieval robes, it was you.
The boys were devastated, particularly Matty, and felt suddenly vulnerable in a place they had previously felt safe in. Sam was more put out by the fact that he would now have to walk home. I suppose it would be unchristian of me to hope the wheels fall off and a trip to casualty ensues.
Then, on Saturday, Polly was working in Wimbledon and was parked on the street. When she returned from entertaining a pack of little darlings to load her equipment back into the van she found that some numpty had driven into the back of it with one of those metal tow bar fixtures you attach caravans or trailers to. The resulting damage means that the ramp no longer works and I can't use our van any more. We will have to take it to a body repair shop and have bits welded back together at vast expense and inconvenience. Thank you whoever you are. I hope the lump of metal on the back of your vehicle did not suffer too much damage.
So, if anyone offers you some cheap children's scooters, let me know. And if their car has a slightly damaged tow bar with flecks of white paint on it, do me a favour and let their tyres down.
On a completely different and happier note I would like to congratulate my friend Alistair Kevin Daniel on the confirmation of his doctorate. I'm still not exactly sure what semiotics is, but it's good to know they are in such safe hands. I'm very proud of you Dr Daniel, well done. If ever there was a man born to wear scarlet medieval robes, it was you.
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