Eight Days a Week

Eight Days a Week

It was such a jam-packed week that the flavor was definitely multi-fruit!

It included a meet-cute with a barber inspired by Richard Curtis (rom-com writer of “Notting Hill” and others). As no romance — or indeed, bromance — was involved, it was more of a meet-cut.

I’ve written a number of times about trips to get my hair cut. They are shaggy human stories, as the logistics involved are complex. Since being restricted to a wheelchair last February, getting out of the house was tough enough. Then I had to get to the barber’s. Getting a mobile hairdresser was impossible — I’ve long given up on that idea.

This time it was a breeze.

My house adaption was finally finished. I could get out of my front door and sweep down the newly laid drive. I was also in my new electric wheelchair as I went off to get my hair cut on my ownsome.

Modern houses no longer have an outhouse, but this adaption means I can now get out of the house! (Photo by John Connor)

So, the meet-cut.

The nearest barber is open seven days a week. I asked the guy who was snipping away how many days he worked. His reply was, “I’ve got so much rent to pay, it’s eight days a week.”

“That’s a Beatles song,” I remarked.

Nothing.

Somewhat ironically, I was thrust into the scenario of Curtis’ new movie “Yesterday.” The conceit being that no one in the world knows The Beatles except one failed singer-songwriter. I tried to explain the irony of finding a person who doesn’t know The Beatles while describing the film’s plot point.

The barber did a far better job on my hair then I managed with the logical spiral I’d initiated.

We went back to talking about the weather.

My week felt very much like an eight-dayer. I’d been out to work in London on Tuesday as usual. What was unusual was the next day I was up early for a trip to Wimbledon for tennis. I only live a few miles away, so the journey is not too onerous. We arrived in plenty of time. Unfortunately, though, all of the officials are tremendously solicitous — we are in the nexus of the English middle-class — “nobody knows anything.” I’m sticking with my movie motif: William Goldman’s famous quote about Hollywood.

I found myself gazing out of a window at concrete instead of looking at the opening game on No. 1 Court. My position was not my own choice but rather due to the lack of signposting for disabled routes, and that was where officials had directed me.

No. 1 Court at Wimbledon has a spanking new roof. Not sure of this restricted view, though. (Photo by John Connor)

After much faffing about, we finally met someone senior enough to show us the way.

He seemed very put out that nobody knew anything — if he was that important surely he should have made sure that his staff knew such things. Still, I got there in time to see English player Heather Watson beaten. Not by a player significantly better, but when you’re there in person, you can feel the psychological difference — it’s a form of theater.

The Tennis Brothers — with my son Jack. (Photo by John Connor)

So, Thursday was going over my new van day. The company that had adapted and supplied it conducted a follow-up visit to look at any problems. It is a tremendous service — of which I’ll admit I hadn’t been aware. We’d all struggled with how to use the seat belt when I traveled in my chair. Despite a detailed description and a YouTube video, we were all flummoxed. But it took mere minutes to demonstrate. It also transpires that I need to have something called a dock-and-lock system fitted so that I can drive the van safely on my own.

At the moment, there’s no way to secure my chair and get into the driver’s seat without assistance.

Now that is being dealt with. Hurrah!

Friday was recovery day. I was so fatigued it was like having a hangover except, thankfully, without the headache or nausea.

I couldn’t get out of bed without help.

This was worrying as I was going to spend the weekend “Home Alone.”

Yes, reader, that’s the title of next week’s column.

A sequel!

***

Note: Multiple Sclerosis News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Multiple Sclerosis News Today or its parent company, BioNews Services, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to multiple sclerosis.

John Connor BNS Writer
‘In 1982 John Connor was a stand up, sketch writer & journalist – crap at all three he decided whilst watching a man performing with a paper bag on his head that as nobody else was going to write about stand up he would’. ‘Comics’ Papermac 1990. In 2009 John Connor was diagnosed with MS. In 2017 John Connor still produces/directs his own live 27 year old resident topical comedy show at London’s Comedy Store – ‘The Cutting Edge’. He was also a leading UK Casting Director specialising in comedy – including one of the hippest shows ‘Black Books’ [double BAFTA winning Situation Comedy Award] & for at least a decade the biggest sitcom on British TV ‘My Family’. TV & MS was a step too far – and we know how hard any step can be. Luckily his satirical show was a built in part time job & with the election of Trump is now in the zeitgeist. John now writes “Fall Down Get Up Again” – an irreverent journey with MS.
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John Connor BNS Writer
‘In 1982 John Connor was a stand up, sketch writer & journalist – crap at all three he decided whilst watching a man performing with a paper bag on his head that as nobody else was going to write about stand up he would’. ‘Comics’ Papermac 1990. In 2009 John Connor was diagnosed with MS. In 2017 John Connor still produces/directs his own live 27 year old resident topical comedy show at London’s Comedy Store – ‘The Cutting Edge’. He was also a leading UK Casting Director specialising in comedy – including one of the hippest shows ‘Black Books’ [double BAFTA winning Situation Comedy Award] & for at least a decade the biggest sitcom on British TV ‘My Family’. TV & MS was a step too far – and we know how hard any step can be. Luckily his satirical show was a built in part time job & with the election of Trump is now in the zeitgeist. John now writes “Fall Down Get Up Again” – an irreverent journey with MS.

One comment

  1. Peggy says:

    Love the movie references! Glad got seats arranged for Wimbleton. Sadly that “nobody knows anything” applies to everything!

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