Don't worry, my chair is fine, and still fixed. The reason for the title of today's (backdated) post is that we were given an appointment (a cancellation) at the wheelchair clinic. The new micro-switch and the wheels had arrived and needed to be fitted, and they would also be able to turn up the speed of the motors, meaning that it could get me across the road safely again.
Or so we thought. It turned out that the only item that was there was the switch - which was great, of course, because I no longer have to rely on the rather precarious modification of a few wires. However, the whole issue began with the rickety wheel putting undue strain on the motors, so for the four or five weeks that must elapse until the new one gets here there is the worry that it might happen again. Also, the engineer (my favourite, who knows me really well) unfortunately wasn't aware that I was coming, because it was a cancellation slot, so he hadn't brought the programmer to turn up my speed.
We found out all of this in the course of a two-hour appointment, which was that long despite the switch being fixed in just fifteen minutes, because they had completely forgotten what was actually wrong. Cue many investigations from which they drew their original conclusions. Go figure.
That said, I don't want this to be a moan-filled post, so I shall end on a note of gratitude. I am so lucky my chair is maintained on the NHS. Sure, it's been a faff, but it would be even more of one if we had had to organise everything (diagnostics, parts, engineers etc) ourselves - not least because most companies in the industry refuse to deal with the public.
So, all in all, I'd say I've had a pretty good time of it - and we live in the right country. Praise be to National Health. Long may the service live.
Or so we thought. It turned out that the only item that was there was the switch - which was great, of course, because I no longer have to rely on the rather precarious modification of a few wires. However, the whole issue began with the rickety wheel putting undue strain on the motors, so for the four or five weeks that must elapse until the new one gets here there is the worry that it might happen again. Also, the engineer (my favourite, who knows me really well) unfortunately wasn't aware that I was coming, because it was a cancellation slot, so he hadn't brought the programmer to turn up my speed.
We found out all of this in the course of a two-hour appointment, which was that long despite the switch being fixed in just fifteen minutes, because they had completely forgotten what was actually wrong. Cue many investigations from which they drew their original conclusions. Go figure.
That said, I don't want this to be a moan-filled post, so I shall end on a note of gratitude. I am so lucky my chair is maintained on the NHS. Sure, it's been a faff, but it would be even more of one if we had had to organise everything (diagnostics, parts, engineers etc) ourselves - not least because most companies in the industry refuse to deal with the public.
So, all in all, I'd say I've had a pretty good time of it - and we live in the right country. Praise be to National Health. Long may the service live.
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