August 22, 2006
Today I tried a chiropractor different from the one I had been seeing just before the accident. He was recommended to me by two massage therapists I’ve seen, though one of them commented that I could just ignore the spiel I would be given, that the results were good. The chiropractor did give me his spiel, and he asked me if I followed the theory. I smiled and told him “the proof is in the pudding.” (Bold of me, yes? :-) I’ve heard too many theories in my time.)
We’ll see how it goes. Despite the theorizing, the actual adjustment was the same as what the other chiropractors did.
When I got back to the house, the garage people were doing more painting. I had been thinking of asking one of them to open a window in the kitchennete to see if the ground squirrel could be persuaded to leave by it – when I had chased the thing out of the poinsettia, it had kept on trying to crash through that closed window instead of going through the open door; I had tried to open the window then, but it was painted shut. While I was at the chiropractor, Joe had called and left a message on my cell phone. He suggested opening a window in the storage room/dining room where the critter had taken up residence (there was a “duh” moment – I hadn’t thought of that). Anyway, I wasn’t actually sure the beastie was still in the house – I was hoping my poinsettia/cat food trick had lured it outdoors. I went into the storage room to see if I could open that window myself before asking the manly men to do it. As I went to the window, something shot past me, and I nearly shot through the roof – yes, it was still in there. So I got one of the garage guys to open the windows in both those rooms. I hope this works.
After lunch, Gary and I went to a couple furniture stores so I could test out some mattresses. I. am. so. confused :-(. I laid on some awhile, and though I could tell differences, I wasn’t sure what I would actually like to sleep on (and I didn’t think the salesman would let me sleep there overnight to test out the mattresses). The stores we went to had Serta mattresses, and when we got home Gary looked up reviews of these mattresses and found they said that after a few months Sertas form “troughs.” Sigh. So I’ve gotten nowhere on that.
After the furniture stores, (well, after the ice cream stop Gary insisted on after the furniture stores ;-)) we went to a pharmacy where Gary hoped to get his prescription supplies. The store’s handicapped parking spot was designed for the handicapped person to get out on the driver’s side – there was a ramp to the building on the left side of the spot, which forced me to park on the right side of the spot, which meant there was no room for me to put Gary’s wheelchair between our car and a neighboring car, should there be one there, which fortunately there wasn’t. I just thought that spot oddly designed. Later, on our way out of the store, I was letting Gary get the door himself when a woman came from behind us and, noting I had my hands full of packages, asked if she could help get the door. We told her, no, that Gary was practicing. She said I was lucky, that her husband was in a wheelchair and he wouldn’t do anything for himself. She sounded very beleaguered. Gary and I told her she should show her husband some tough love.
It turned out the pharmacy didn’t carry the prescription supplies Gary needed, and rather than order them for him (as Gary’s physician had thought they would), they sent us to a medical supply place (too bad we hadn’t known that beforehand, as the place was on the other side of town back where the furniture stores were). It took about an hour to set up an account and for them to find in the order book the supplies Gary needed, but now that that’s done his order will automatically be put through every month (though if he needs to make any changes, he can call in a week before the order is sent out).
We were both pooped after this. For me, it was both due to the actual shopping – I hate shopping, and most especially when it’s unproductive – and due to the fact that I had had to take Gary’s forty pound wheelchair apart and pick it up and put it in the car, and take it out of the car and put it together ten times in three hours on this very hot day (almost made me wish we had a van already). For Gary, it was the heat, the extended outing, and the ten transfers.
Not entirely unrelated, Gary decided to not get the power-assist wheels at this point in time. Transfers are non-trivial right now, and if he were to want the wheels on his chair, say to go to a graduate council meeting across campus, he’d have to get someone to help him transfer to an office chair or something, then change the wheels for him, most likely, because they are twenty-some pounds apiece, then help him transfer back into the wheelchair; then he’d toodle across campus. It’ll be less of a rigamarole when his transfers are better. He said for now he’d just get someone to drive him, but I told him I had seen a bus on campus with a handicapped symbol that seemed to indicate the bus had a lift, and I thought maybe he could use that to get to such meetings. He is going to look into that.
In the evening, Gary opened package number six from Norma. It contained a postcard of beautiful Hubbard Glacier and a little box containing a genuine Tip of the Iceberg (well, that’s what it says). And don’t worry, Norma, though Gary is sorry he couldn’t make the trip, he is enjoying getting these gifts – they don’t make him feel sad. He thinks you all did a wonderful job of putting together these little surprises for him, and he is very touched by it.
Today I tried a chiropractor different from the one I had been seeing just before the accident. He was recommended to me by two massage therapists I’ve seen, though one of them commented that I could just ignore the spiel I would be given, that the results were good. The chiropractor did give me his spiel, and he asked me if I followed the theory. I smiled and told him “the proof is in the pudding.” (Bold of me, yes? :-) I’ve heard too many theories in my time.)
We’ll see how it goes. Despite the theorizing, the actual adjustment was the same as what the other chiropractors did.
When I got back to the house, the garage people were doing more painting. I had been thinking of asking one of them to open a window in the kitchennete to see if the ground squirrel could be persuaded to leave by it – when I had chased the thing out of the poinsettia, it had kept on trying to crash through that closed window instead of going through the open door; I had tried to open the window then, but it was painted shut. While I was at the chiropractor, Joe had called and left a message on my cell phone. He suggested opening a window in the storage room/dining room where the critter had taken up residence (there was a “duh” moment – I hadn’t thought of that). Anyway, I wasn’t actually sure the beastie was still in the house – I was hoping my poinsettia/cat food trick had lured it outdoors. I went into the storage room to see if I could open that window myself before asking the manly men to do it. As I went to the window, something shot past me, and I nearly shot through the roof – yes, it was still in there. So I got one of the garage guys to open the windows in both those rooms. I hope this works.
After lunch, Gary and I went to a couple furniture stores so I could test out some mattresses. I. am. so. confused :-(. I laid on some awhile, and though I could tell differences, I wasn’t sure what I would actually like to sleep on (and I didn’t think the salesman would let me sleep there overnight to test out the mattresses). The stores we went to had Serta mattresses, and when we got home Gary looked up reviews of these mattresses and found they said that after a few months Sertas form “troughs.” Sigh. So I’ve gotten nowhere on that.
After the furniture stores, (well, after the ice cream stop Gary insisted on after the furniture stores ;-)) we went to a pharmacy where Gary hoped to get his prescription supplies. The store’s handicapped parking spot was designed for the handicapped person to get out on the driver’s side – there was a ramp to the building on the left side of the spot, which forced me to park on the right side of the spot, which meant there was no room for me to put Gary’s wheelchair between our car and a neighboring car, should there be one there, which fortunately there wasn’t. I just thought that spot oddly designed. Later, on our way out of the store, I was letting Gary get the door himself when a woman came from behind us and, noting I had my hands full of packages, asked if she could help get the door. We told her, no, that Gary was practicing. She said I was lucky, that her husband was in a wheelchair and he wouldn’t do anything for himself. She sounded very beleaguered. Gary and I told her she should show her husband some tough love.
It turned out the pharmacy didn’t carry the prescription supplies Gary needed, and rather than order them for him (as Gary’s physician had thought they would), they sent us to a medical supply place (too bad we hadn’t known that beforehand, as the place was on the other side of town back where the furniture stores were). It took about an hour to set up an account and for them to find in the order book the supplies Gary needed, but now that that’s done his order will automatically be put through every month (though if he needs to make any changes, he can call in a week before the order is sent out).
We were both pooped after this. For me, it was both due to the actual shopping – I hate shopping, and most especially when it’s unproductive – and due to the fact that I had had to take Gary’s forty pound wheelchair apart and pick it up and put it in the car, and take it out of the car and put it together ten times in three hours on this very hot day (almost made me wish we had a van already). For Gary, it was the heat, the extended outing, and the ten transfers.
Not entirely unrelated, Gary decided to not get the power-assist wheels at this point in time. Transfers are non-trivial right now, and if he were to want the wheels on his chair, say to go to a graduate council meeting across campus, he’d have to get someone to help him transfer to an office chair or something, then change the wheels for him, most likely, because they are twenty-some pounds apiece, then help him transfer back into the wheelchair; then he’d toodle across campus. It’ll be less of a rigamarole when his transfers are better. He said for now he’d just get someone to drive him, but I told him I had seen a bus on campus with a handicapped symbol that seemed to indicate the bus had a lift, and I thought maybe he could use that to get to such meetings. He is going to look into that.
In the evening, Gary opened package number six from Norma. It contained a postcard of beautiful Hubbard Glacier and a little box containing a genuine Tip of the Iceberg (well, that’s what it says). And don’t worry, Norma, though Gary is sorry he couldn’t make the trip, he is enjoying getting these gifts – they don’t make him feel sad. He thinks you all did a wonderful job of putting together these little surprises for him, and he is very touched by it.
posted by Peg Daniels at 8:18 PM
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