Entry 12: Reporting From Under the Duvet…

So this week's blog marks a rather momentous week in the life of one TingleTetra. It comes at a time in the year that is hardest for me, and those closest to me, as it is almost the third anniversary of my injury. However, on a much better and brighter note, after a whole year of marketing, estate agents, solicitors and an army of friends willing to put themselves out for me, I have finally sold my flat. When I was first injured the idea of ever moving back down south was a pipe dream and not even to be thought of. When we finally came around to considering its possibility we looked at all angles of my being able to move back into my home – my first-floor flat in a building with no lifts. Could we have a lift installed? Could we have a ramp built on the outside of the building? Can we adapt the bathroom suitably? Could I even still pay my mortgage?

It was to be sold. I was never moving back, so the flat was to be gotten rid of. The first place I had bought as my own special corner of the world, which was all mine (never mind the bank and key worker housing scheme… We'll not confuse matters by bringing them into it!) – Was no longer accessible. And to this day I have not set foot inside it since I left to go travelling. Fortunately, in those crazy blurred days at the beginning I had already set up the flat to be rented out to tenants, so thinking about putting it on the market was able to go on the backburner. After all, my brain was far more occupied in wondering if I would ever move my right arm again to be bothered about my little flat 300 miles away.

Anyway, three sets of tenants later and the rather stressful period of finding a buyer, when that evil breed of people known as 'estate agents' had allowed my flat to become a mould infested, stink of a place has finally come to an end. Those moments where you wake up all of a sudden at night, stomach knotted in fear that all your plans will fall through and have to start again afresh – those moments will be taken over by something else now. The flat is no longer a concern. And this is a good thing.

As I write this I'm smiling to myself because I have just telephoned each utility company in turn and told them I am no longer the owner of that particular flat and could they please send me a final bill. I was rather impressed to discover I would be getting a cheque sent from the electricity company… Hopefully that will cover all the other bills!

Okay then, so I'm now continuing this two days later when I have had quite possibly the most stressful days of the entire year with regards to selling this bloody flat. Desperate to complete, both buyers and myself, I discover that the key worker housing scheme who "helped" me initially to buy my property has been incredibly difficult, and held up the sale over the last few months, and even now on the day of completion have held up the motions by not forwarding e-mails and documents to my solicitor and so it has to go on until tomorrow. I knew when I bought my flat with them that things would not be straightforward. The key worker scheme is put forward to you to be able to "help key workers who are unable to afford to buy their own homes." What they don't mention are all the extra hidden fees that pop-up left, right and centre throughout both the buying and the selling of the property. In the end it is a total rip-off. And then, let's not forget that they insist on their pound of flesh.

Oh yes… I will admit to you all that TingleTetra is ridiculously bad at maths. Though surely when it comes to such great sums as when dealing with property selling you would have thought I could have at least added it up correctly. Which, until two days ago I thought I had. Again, this paragraph is being written another two days from the last. As I have ended up hiding from the world, mostly under my duvet, due to the incredible stress of discovering that not only do the key worker housing scheme want me to pay admin fees, their solicitors fees as well as having had me pay not once but twice for a valuation (which, frankly, any estate agent would do for free!) Oh no. This key worker housing association insisted I pay nearly £100 for a valuation done by an estate agent of their choice that would only be valid for only three months. As the sale took nearly 6 months to go from offer to completion… Again, I strongly suspect it was the key worker housing association that held up the proceeds… Two valuations were needed!

Apologies, I digress. After my first mortgage was cleared (woo hoo!), I then needed this key worker housing scheme to release their own charge on the property after I have returned to them their initial 18.5% investment. Which they have not done as of yet. So the new current owners will probably take action against me. They have not released their charge because I cannot pay back all of the 18.5 %. Apparently I did my sums wrong. Negative Equity big-time.

The really ridiculous thing is that this key worker housing scheme would not allow me to rent out the property, thereby saving me from this hideous situation! They allowed it only for a short period of time (for a fee, of course!), even though they knew of my exceptional circumstances. They insisted I put it on the market. And now I owe them a ton of money. Surely this can't be right…? Surely somewhere along the line it can't even be legal…?? So that knot in my stomach I mentioned several days and paragraphs ago that was going to be replaced by something else, it is now tripled in size and my duvet is my best friend. 

Oh, and three years yesterday I broke my neck.

Entry 11: Infiltration Complete

Tetra b-log, Star Date: 15022013.

 Assimilation into native surroundings has so far been successful. It has not been an easy journey and it would be a lie to say I'm not still adjusting. However, the native humanoids have been incredibly supportive at my designated infiltration point. My general observations have led me to believe that these humanoids are actually very compassionate. They carry a level of empathy (granted it is at differing amounts) which allows them to perceive some of the difficulties I must deal with adjusting to their world.

The difficulties described in the original brief have been faced and your advice was invaluable. I have stuck very closely to the team sent with me to enable my every-day functionality and has allowed my further development towards maintaining a reasonable standard of living here on this planet.

Due to the differing physical abilities that separate our species, I have found it difficult to initiate a work and recreational regime. Although I have put myself forward to many organisations, offering my services free of charge in many cases, there is often unwillingness to receive my help. The native humanoids are very suspicious of where I come from and what I'm capable of, and therefore run extensive diagnostics upon my person and background. This has taken a lot longer than expected and I have grown accustomed to having a lot of free time. Whilst this might sound pleasant, the long-term effects of this upon my mind and body have been adverse. My tolerance of noise is not what it used to be, I am no longer able to concentrate for long periods of time, and my memory has suffered. There is nothing to mark out the days as different and so therefore I end up forgetting what day it is. Much like the muscles that are no longer of use in my legs and body, I fear that my brain has also atrophied.

It appears that the natives gain respect and self-esteem as well as vital "money" for survival through employment. I am attempting to gain such employment but for the aforementioned reasons, it is taking much longer than expected.

There is a system already in place here that would suggest I am not the first of my kind to have arrived here. There are specially trained locals who interact with me frequently, and who have a greater grasp of my necessities than the general populace. They even have methods of supplying me with equipment that makes my life here bearable, and at times can even increase my comfort. Without wanting to put myself in a position where I am an object of study, I have made inroads with these native humanoids towards helping my body adjust to this planet's atmospheric conditions. They wish to put me on a course of "hydrotherapy" involving immersing my body in very warm water and move my limbs in various ways. Apparently this may lead to a significant reduction in the amount of spasms suffered and a general improvement in the muscle tone throughout the rest of the body.

A few weeks after arrival I contracted a local bacterial infection that immediately affected my lungs. Upon your advice that our lungs are not designed to efficiently take in oxygen on this planet, I immediately sought medical advice from my team and the local humanoids. Although the episode was greatly unpleasant for myself, as I was in great pain and I will admit I was scared of how little I could breathe, the overall outcome is one of success. They placed me in one of their "hospitals" were more of these 'specially trained' locals were able to administer medicine, and use specialised equipment to loosen the phlegm on my chest that the bacteria had produced. A collaboration between myself, my team, and the natives led to my healing.

I believe that further collaboration, clear communication and a willingness to understand on both sides should lead to a successful full integration in the long-term. I shall continue to report on my further discoveries of life on this planet.

Entry 10: The Week That Was…

Monday

(Photograph stolen from Wikipedia)

I did not sleep very well last night. I've become a bit of an addict of the program Fringe, and watching five episodes back-to-back does not create a good mental state prepared for sleep. This morning I had to face dealing with something I had been putting off for well over a week… The ongoing saga of claiming compensation for my injuries and accident. I'd had all the info sent to me, and reading through it is somewhat taxing, and always raises up a highly emotional state in me. I could not eat breakfast. Nor lunch. I want to move forward, psychologically, emotionally, and literally in my life but dealing with the compensation claim takes me right back to 3 years ago and the huge life destroying incident that ruined so much of my present and future, and robbed my family, friends, and myself of so much.

Thank goodness for fresh air and massage therapists! I managed to get out for a little bit, get a change of scenery and then later on in the afternoon I had my first massage session. I'm paralysed from the mid chest down, so I hold all my body tension in my shoulders, neck and upper arms. I have struggled for three years now with pain in my muscles and tendons and nerves in this region and I get a lot of trigger points/knots that just cause deep aches I have no way of shifting. On the advice of my cousin, a physiotherapist*, I decided to invest in myself and employ a regular masseuse who is trained in deep tissue massage. Best New Year's resolution ever.
*http://www.thephysiotherapycentre.com


Tuesday
Today I have been battling with a very serious conundrum: how am I going to re-highlight my hair. Shocking revelation, so brace yourselves - I'm not a natural blonde. Or rather I am blonde, just not as blonde as I like to appear :-). I cannot go to a regular salon, because I cannot transfer into the chair that is bolted to the floor in front of the sinks… And so washing out the hair dye is an impossibility. In fact, it is the primary problem - even at home, if a mobile hairdresser were to highlight my hair, I would have to sit in my shower chair, and then once it is washed out, I would end up getting soaked and would need to be hoisted onto the bed to get changed… Or at least I would need to be hoisted into my wheelchair because the shower chair would be wet. I don't particularly want to be hoisted in front of a stranger… And it's a bit bizarre sending them out into the kitchen to hang about whilst I get sorted.

A friend of mine who is training to be a hairdresser came around this afternoon to give my hair a much needed trim (the ends were so damaged you'd think I'd dipped them in actual Domestos). I was horrified when she suggested that I return to my Natural Colour. Now not sure if friendship is worth maintaining… Natural colour, indeed!*Scoffs*

This might seem like a real stupid thing to be blogging about but actually it is quite serious - my appearance has completely changed since becoming quadriplegic. Every woman has parts of her body she dislikes and occasionally there are even parts that she likes. For me it was my hair that I liked, the rest I would have happily swapped. And maybe my feet… I quite liked those too. Given that I'm now constantly wearing a wheelchair, have a Tetra-slump hiding any kind of waistline I might have had, and of course, let's not forget the scar from my tracheostomy, I don't exactly feel very confident about my appearance. I never had much confidence anyway, and now I don't think I will ever feel attractive again. The only thing that could give me confidence would be my hair. After all, it is probably the only thing that has not changed or been affected by my injury. So dammit, I want to get my roots done, and highlight it properly! Anyone with any solution to this conundrum, Please do message me!

Wednesday
Okay, I've been umming and ah-ing whether to mention this… But as I decided that this week I would give an open and frank window into a general week in the life of tetraplegia I may as well talk about it. 
Have you ever wet yourself in public? Can you even remember the last time you wet yourself? Exactly how embarrassed would you be? How would you deal with it? Well, as I have no feeling, or control of my body from the mid chest down I therefore have to 'manage' my bodily systems. 

I was out with a friend having coffee, when I look down and noticed that my foot-plate is wet. I realise that one of my boots is a lot darker than the other. It is not the first time and I can almost guarantee it won't be the last time when my leg bag for some reason, has opened and leaked urine. Not only is my sock soaked but my boot had absorbed quite a large amount too. Kudos to my amazing friend who totally did not make a big deal out of it; she put her baby son in his pram and just as if it were an everyday occurrence we went into the loos and sorted it out. I doubt any of the other customers realised what was going on, although when I crashed into one of the wooden posts and knocked it off its plinth… I think I might have drawn some attention…

Following that drama I then had – Another Trip to the Opticians… I really didn't trust the first guys who did my contact lens assessment, so I made another appointment at a very well-known pharmaceutical/opticians that is named after a type of shoe. Turns out I really am getting longsighted! Well actually, that's a bit of an overstatement - I'm so shortsighted that it is known as a "complex prescription" and eligible for the NHS to contribute to any glasses I buy. But it would seem that due to my age I am now less shortsighted than I once was.… If this keeps continuing then hopefully by the time I reach 50 I won't need glasses at all!

To recover from what has been quite a stressful day I have some Quality Time with a good friend of mine and her two rather large dogs. As I'd been transferred out of my wheelchair and was sat like a Lady Muck on my comfy pink sofa chair, buried under my duvet, I was unable to go for a walk with them and get some much-needed fresh air! So instead they came to mine, and I was greeted by one of the dogs happily jumping onto my lap and giving my face a thorough clean with added "dog snogs." Now I know I said I miss snogging… But I'm not as desperate as that yet!

Thursday
Tetra-Morning today, so got up a little bit earlier to take care of certain personal needs. And that's all I'm going to say about that! 

I'm actually writing this on Friday morning, because I'm such a lazy moo that I couldn't be bothered finishing off last night. I mean, what should I tell you about today? (Thursday I mean, not Friday!). 

Following my Tetra morning, I had lunch out with some friends. Fortunately it was sunny weather, and quite warm. That meant that once the flat was tidy, I went through my post, with the aid of my PA, and then she helped me put my shoes on, helped put my coat on, and then she helped put my hat on and I went outside. I trundled along the pavement to where there is a dropped curb and then I trundled back along the road towards where my vehicle is parked. My PA aided me to get in the car, and bracketed me down, making sure my wheelchair won't move and then off we went to meet my friends.

If I'm trying to share with you something of "life in a chair", then the above little description of preparing to leave the house gives a small, tiny taster of what it's like. I am truly blessed with some amazing friends who frankly have rolled with the punches as it were, with my accident and adjusted to my new way of being. We were having chips in a pub that my friends had chosen specifically for its accessibility.

Friday

(SA Home Loans's photo)

I spent the morning sat in front of my laptop, editing this post. I actually really need to tackle a pile of paperwork that I keep ignoring. It means my PA and I need to make phone calls and write letters and organise post office trips and get out all my files so we can put paperwork away. Frankly, I'd rather play Farmville on Facebook! Having reread my week so far, I have become very aware of how many friends I have seen… And how they have really and truly just "gotten on with it." I know for many of them dealing with my tetraplegia has been quite hard to accept - and yet I am so fortunate, that they have still accepted me and gone beyond that to helping me and adjusted the way they do things so that I can be included.

Okay, so I got on with my paperwork and make phone calls. I'm sure this is making a riveting read! 

With the aid of my PA, I went through papers on benefits, solicitor details on selling my flat, papers from solicitors for my compensation claim, application forms to Canine Partners, finding paper with an old address on it to prove where I used to live… 

Making phone calls were my PA would have to dial the numbers and occasionally even have to "press one should this be your choice or press two If that is your choice," blah, blah. And then of course there is all the filing. I promise myself one day that I'm going to shred all my old paperwork from being at the spinal unit and from living in Liverpool, just as a way of updating myself. However, I have recently applied for a CRB and because I didn't throw away old papers I actually had evidence of where I used to live… Some people I'm sure find it really easy delegating, and putting work onto other people. In fact that kind of sounds like what most people would want to do - so maybe it's just the way my brain works, but I would far rather be able to flit about here and do a bit on that piece and then flit about there and do a bit on that. Unfortunately this makes it very hard for the person working with me to follow my train of thought. Not only am I thinking of what it is I'm actually doing, but I have to think about the other person and how they are going to accomplish what it is that I'm doing. Does that really sound bizarre and does it even make any sense? I'm not even sure myself!

Anyway, I gave us both a break and went out for a little walk, sorry, roll around the estate to get some fresh air and get away from this blasted laptop that I seem to spend 95% of my time in front of. Fortunately this time we remembered to charge my chair up!
And now I'm back in front of my laptop. Blogging to you lovely people :-)