Stuck in Delivery Limbo Land

John Connor avatar

by John Connor |

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john connor

Take a minute … and relax.

It’s been a fraught few weeks of numerous solo hospital visits, as my wife was first dealing with a dying father and then helping to organize his funeral, estate, and her own turbulent emotions. Her mum had died only four months ago.

Then, last Monday, some good news: The electric wheelchair that I’d just passed the driving test for was to be delivered that Wednesday. Well, actually, a phone representative initially informed me that an engineer was coming round to change the hand control’s figuration. That would be something of a waste of time seeing as I don’t have the electric wheelchair yet.

“Oh, we must be delivering it then,” she said.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I was to phone back on Tuesday to see if it would be a delivery in the morning or afternoon.

Obviously, I would reorganize things to make this possible. Was she really sure? I would have to reconfigure my week just to be able to open the front door.

I’d be alone in the house on Wednesday afternoon. I spend most of my time in our first-floor bedroom because I can get down the stairs, but it is my equivalent of rock climbing. I don’t dare to do it without anyone else in the house. To be able to open the front door, I’d need to wait in the hall — compared to me, an ancient shambling retainer is Usain Bolt.

I usually write this column on Wednesdays, so last Monday when I finished my other work, I had to get stuck in. Monday and Tuesday turned into two 12-hour working days. That’s something that I regularly did when I was able-bodied, but not something I’d recommend for those of us who should build in fatigue breaks.

The representative I talked to was able-bodied. I know this because I phoned the company again to see if they had any disabled office staff. As a company that exists to help disabled people, surely it would help to have some office staff who are also disabled. They’d understand that the “simple” opening of a front door can be like mounting a military operation!

The representative’s youth was blamed. I blame the company.

The engineer turned up Wednesday morning, rather than the as-promised afternoon slot. Still, I didn’t have to go downstairs. That was a relief, as even my “shatters” were shattered! Unsurprisingly, he’d turned up to change the controls on a machine he hadn’t delivered yet. I don’t think even wheelchair technicians have mastered tachyons. It’s probably just a matter of time.

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Comments

Denise avatar

Denise

I agree with you completely there is nothing more aggravating than waiting on delivery when I home alone.Able bodied people just can't comprehend what's it's like in our shoes and my mailman just aggravates the hell out of me because he refused to knock on the door and hand me my mail in my wheelchair!

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Cyndi avatar

Cyndi

Maybe consider installing a "Ring" (or similar security) doorbell camera alert system. Allows me to both see and speak with the person at the door. I can ask them to wait as I make my way to the door, ask that they leave a delivery item at the door, or direct whatever other instruction may be necessary. Simple one camera system not that pricy...especially considering the ease it allows me in not trying to race to the door or otherwise missing the person entirely.

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