Blimey, been awhile hasn't it?

It's been an interesting and often amusing couple of weeks. Had to ask facebook to close down an account that had been set up in my name. Which they did swiftly.

An update on the Jobcentre Plus phone call post - they're now saying they have no record of contacting me (shrug).

Had a chap ask me out for coffee. Kind of him. Another guy has asked me to support him at a disability benefits hearing, and perhaps go for a drink/coffee afterwards?

Sounds fair enough? Hmmm. Until you realise that for me going out is a carefully planned military style operation. I don't -can't- go out unaccompanied. I travel with a carer. We need to know exactly where the buses are, and how long we would have to wait for them. Standing for long periods is out of the question.

We need to know where the toilets are near the bus stops, because I'm doubly incontinent. I need to know whether those toilets have at least basic changing and disposal facilities, and I often need a carer - of either sex - to accompany me to the toilet. Then there's the cost of the bus fares for the carer. Don't get me going about trying to catch a bus in a wheelchair - it just isn't going to happen. Sure, buses have reserved spaces, but would you ask a couple of harassed mums with prams and kids to block the isle and you, so you can park up?

I won't. Then there's actually using Wheels. I have to be pushed. Uphill, mostly. As my lass will tell you, it's no fun at all. There's the essential 'dropped curbs' which you have to go miles off-route to find, assuming no-one has parked on it or blocking it. Normal kerbs are possible, but more often than not the front wheels drop, the ass goes up, and I tip out. Take it from one who knows, landing on your nose on a busy road, while some kind driver blocks traffic while a carer helps you back in is not amusing.

Can I propel myself? Sure I can. I've an arm that works, and another that belongs to someone else, and it takes a bit of negotiation to get them co-operate. For a while. Then they fall out. I'll leave it to your imagination what happens when a one armed man propels himself in a wheelchair. It's ok to smile - it makes me laugh :)

Catching taxi's for coffee is just plain silly cost wise.

Did you know that some taxi companies charge extra for wheelchair users because their cars need to specially adapted? Did you also know that there wheelchair width restrictions on trains?

A café? Assuming the toilets, changing and disposal facilities are ok, I need to know about the cups. Yup, cups. With a normal cup, or glass I dibble all down my shirt. The lip on a normal cup is too thick, but I'm fine with thin bone china, which in most cafés isn't practical. Like hell am I going to use an adult feeder cup in public. And eating in public, perhaps having someone cut up my food for me? Thanks, but no :)

For the same reason, I don't nip out for a newspaper, go for a pint, I'm not allowed to drive, and I astonish myself if and when I can dial a phone number correctly. Oddly enough, I can text, slowly.

If I was to be asked what the most difficult things are? The concentration it takes to look normal. I know I don't HAVE to - I prefer to. It's a man thing. Depending on others, ummm, yeh. And people, because my intellect, on the whole, is peachy, assuming I am normal, whatever that is. I'm a multiple stroke survivor, not a common cold survivor, and it's effects are permenant.