.... we didn't have to fight for everything. That life wasn't a constant battle. I honestly wish I could trade in this disability and go back to how I was pre-late 2016.
We stayed in a hotel in Manchester last night. Part of a chain we'd used before in London, where the wheelchair accessible room was amazing. Really thoughtfully designed and extremely functional (and nice). However, upon arriving in the Manchester room at 21:00, found a less than ideal bathroom (lots of reasons). However, I wasn't alone and it was only for one night and we were tired so just accepted it.
This morning, I entered the shower with the assistance of Mr KC (not possible independently due to the crap design). I had to wear shoes due to how slippy the surface was, including for crutches.
I then sat on the shower seat and started to shower and clean my teeth. Within about 2-3mins of sitting down, the seat lurched forward and I started to head for the floor. I shouted for help but before Mr KC got there, the whole seat fell off the wall and obviously, I hit the shower tray, on my back. The ceramic tiles were splintered and bits stuck on my bum etc.
I had to stay on the floor to rinse off the soap. It was so slippy that I could scoot on my bum to the edge, where Mr KC laid lots of towels (because the main bathroom floor was VERY slippy). I had to crawl across and then use the toilet frame and sink to haul myself up. I'm too heavy to expect Mr KC to lift me. Once I was up and burst into tears, he had to drag me out to my waiting wheelchair. My chair did not fit into this bathroom due to the door being too narrow (one of the many flaws).
I sorted myself out. He went down to reception to complain. They offered 50% off. Obviously we'll be formally writing to complain and expect a full refund.
Buuuuuut. The whole thing whereby we can only book a very restricted number of rooms and even then, you have no certainty that the room will be suitable. What do you do at 21:00 when the so-called wheelchair accessible room is unsuitable?
I'm sick of planning things that we then cannot do because lifts are broken, accessible toilets are out of order or being used to store spare furniture. I'm sick of finding that the accessible entrance cannot be used without staff assistance but there's no way to alert them to your presence unless someone able bodied goes up/down some stairs. I'm sick of finding it's "just one small step inside" when you've phoned to double check it's wheelchair accessible.
I'm sick of the abuse of blue badge parking by people loading protest placards and flags (yesterday in Manchester). I'm sick of the assumption that in a car, the disabled person will always be the passenger and so bays are laid out thus. I'm sick of turning up to my daughter's friends birthday parties to find it's not accessible and I have to sit outside on my own and entrust her to someone else. The other parents can sit together and chat over a brew while I stay outside in the car.
I'm sick of having to spend thousands of pounds on mobility equipment for myself, that's essential to make my life liveable.
I'm so very pissed off about the shower thing this morning because had I been on my own (which I am often, e.g. for work), I'd have had no choice but to pull the emergency cord and wait, naked in the broken shower until complete strangers came along (IF they come along). I felt so very pathetic. So feeble. I have always been a large, strong, sporty person. Yes, I have excellent upper body strength too but that's useless when the surface is so slippery that I can't get up or if the room is so shabbily designed that I can't bring my wheelchair inside.
I'm really distraught, actually. But I'm having to maintain my composure in front of my daughter. I want to cry, to scream, to hit something.
I want my mobility back. |