The phone call trail eventually found me speaking to the company who have the NHS contract for all equipment supplied to the disabled. It was a ridiculous journey through the web, which actually only turned up dead numbers supplied by Glasgow health board, updating their website doesn’t appear to be high on their list of priorities. I eventually remembered that I had a number stored on the phone for the community nurses, who have helped me several times in the past, guess what the number rang out for ages, but it was good job that I hung on as eventually it went to a message that gave me their new telephone number. The good news is they were able to help and found me the number I needed to get an engineer out to fix it for me. I couldn’t believe that even though I explained that there was no way to return the mattress to a flat position and it would actually be impossible to sleep with it as it was, they said there was no one who could come out and look at it until tomorrow and there was nothing I or they could do about it until then. Once I got off the phone I decided to try again to fix it myself and I could believe how easy it was when I took a closer look. The contraption that raises the mattress was twisted and one of it’s arms was catching on headboard, I lifted it a tiny fraction and it clunked back to be once again flat. If I hadn’t managed to do my quick fix I would have been left trying to sleep last night in a sitting position, something I am sure I probably would have managed as I normally can sleep through anything, I really doubt that my body would have got the rest it really needed.
Two guys with less than two braincells between them arrived this morning to fix it properly, I showed then what was happening and they set off to re-strap the elevator to the bed frame, I left them to it and returned a couple of times to see how they were getting on. They had made a sort of muddled dump of all the bedding in the middle of the bed and the first layer of strapping wasn’t allowing for all the sheets, blankets and covers, most of which were caught up in what they had just done. That fixes I left again to sit for a few minutes before returning again, this time, well this time was when I discovered they really didn’t have more than two braincells, possibly even less. They had run strapping over the top of the footboard, cutting in at an angle from the side of the bed to the centre of the footboard firstly it was cutting tightly into the top mattress, that is the one that all the bedding lies over and is tucked under. Their strange arrangement meant that nothing could be tucked anywhere, the sheet would have lie loose over their strapping. It was also at the point where my feet would normally be, their well thought out plan would have resulted in all the bedding from half way down the bed and right across the bottom of the bed untucked. I know I don’t move much when I sleep but half a braincell could have seen just why this wouldn’t have worked. So I asked them to undo it all and I stood there showing them where the same secure result could be supplied but with the result of the bed actually functioning as one, rather than some kind of torture chamber, that would tie you up in knots with in seconds of trying to lie down. It was actually rather fun watching their brains lighting up and the words of “oh yea” coming out as they saw a practical solution appearing. I couldn’t believe to be honest what they would have been happy to leave as a job done. I found myself wondering what would have happened if I had been an elderly person unable to keep an eye on their work and would have most likely just accepted their word that “there isn’t any other way of doing it.” I have to say that by the time they left here I was wondering just what their homes are like and if they have ever actually made a bed, I know not everyone has a valance or all the layers I have but surly they have at least sheets that need to be tucked in.
I know I have kept my contact with all these different departments to as little as possible, but I haven’t once come across any of them who do their job not just intelligently but also taking in to account how the person they are dealing with actually live. Even with my limited contact on every occasion I have felt there is absolutely no respect for belongings or for the person. It isn’t difficult to show just that small amount of courtesy rather than making comments on how you live, or treating you as if you just have to accept what they are saying as that is just the way it is. I guess they must see me a difficult, but I don’t see why I should just accept any of it, this is my home and I like it just the way it is. It’s been an on going problem across the country from what I have seen on TV, I am lucky so far not to need their assistance daily and to be honest that idea just fills me with horror. I fully understand that all of them are on tight schedule’s and keeping to it is the only way that most of them can make a living, but it all just seems so wrong.
Right now I have a bed that I actually still can’t use and I am waiting for Adam to come home and sort out all the bedding. One of the guys did make a half hearted attempt to put some of it in place, but some of it has bands that need to go round the corner of the mattress, and with the electric blanket, sheepskin toppers, and feather topper before you even get to the sheet, makes it all a bit complicated unless you know what is there and where each piece goes. I hate it when things like this happen as now Adams lunch time when we usually actually have some time to talk will now be spent with him in the bedroom sorting it all out so I can sleep this afternoon. Something so small has turned out to be actually far bigger in it’s impact than it should ever been, but that’s half the problem when you aren’t able to do things for yourself, life balloons and you are left behind just waiting for it to pop and let you get things back to normal.