Another life gone.

Had a shocker last night.
Tyre came off wheelchair when driving along.

I didn’t crash exactly. Tyre started to come off a few hundred yards from my place, and the right wheel’ seized’. I was trying to avoid a coach that was reversing towards me in the dark.. and I don’t think the driver could see me. I was shouting out ‘ I’m behind you and I can’t move’.
Christ.

The chair wouldn’t move at all even under full throttle.
Then the right inner tube exploded.
That was sort of a positive, as it would then at least go along the road but with a fully flat tyre that was half off the wheel.

Had I been doing 30, it would have been game over, as I would ould have slewed to the right, into the traffic, and I’d have overturned.

Thankfully Gina was at mine so once back I was able to replace the ( f’d ) tyre and inner tube.

My life…

Thanks to Chris for the invite to his to watch the Ladyball.

Great to see the English girls win the Euros.
Of course on closer analysis, it’s not just English girls, it’s English lesbians that play football.
Only one of the England team was heterosexual. That’s 8%.
It’s clear that in order to perpetuate this success there needs to be a clear strategy where lesbians are identified at a young age and encouraged to play football.
There’s no point in being all ‘ inclusive’ about it, where it’s ‘ football for all girls in schools’ We need a ruthless system where we focus on winning the major trophies, not fanny around ( excuse the wording ) with the straight girls. What’s the point? It’s a waste of resources. Women’s football isn’t cash rich enough to squander money needlessly.

Encourage the heterosexual girls into other sports like netball, where most will give up when they get iPhones anyway, and have centres of sporting excellence for our lesbians.
Boxing, girl football and rugby for example will all improve with a better calibre of hardcore lesbians all competing against each other for team places.

Obviously you’d have to bring back communal showers for them as part of the reward system.

My weekend help said – i think you’ve left parts of your wheelchair outside.

I said that i didn’t think so.
She said – i think you have.

I said ok .. can you bring them in?

She said yes and brought these things inside

I said – which bit do you think that is?

She said – not sure. The steering wheel?

Good grief.

I went to Kew the Music last night.
The ‘ headline ‘ act was Alison Moyet who was once part of a very big act called Yazoo.
She was very good, as was the singer from The Feeling who was a last minute support act.

Alison was a chunky monkey back in the day but now she’s slim. Good girl !

I was on the wheelchair platform – which didn’t seem to be so much for people like me, who have had disabling accidents… but for people who have eaten so much and are now so massive, that they stop walking and get NHS wheelchairs.
Whales in wheelchairs.
Maybe that should be an official category of society.

I ( kind of reluctantly ) got into a conversation with one 25 stoner, who told me she was a Druid.
A Druid ?
A Whale Druid ( I was thinking to myself)

As opposed to a Welsh Druid, that maybe I could become if I did the BTec in it.
Presumably they do that in universities now.

How can anyone go around and tell people with a straight face that they are a Druid?
Shouldn’t she be tall and lean with a long beard and a staff?
Rather than being 25 stone and in an NHS wheelchair, no doubt living off benefits and at an Alison Moyet posh gig in Kew Gardens?

What happened to the thin other half of Yazoo?
I think possibly Alison Moyet ate him one day.

Jesus fing Christ

Repairing a flat tyre on a rear wheel drive wheel of my Triride.

Really fing hard for a female help ( GG ) to get the wheel off in the first place. Not exactly obvious how to do it but we have done it before.
Then those tyres are literally fing welded on.

Eventually changed the tube ( 1 hour ) then the new tube suddenly exploded- as in like a gunshot
The shite tyre had come apart and the wire in the rim cut into the tube so it exploded… at least the wheel wasn’t back on and i wasn’t in the chair or out on the road.

Then Decided to change the tyre as had other tyres.

An hour to get the tyre off.
Had to cut it off with a sharp Brad awl and wire cutters. There was a massive amount of swearing and just as much total mystification as to how a wheelchair tyre should be so much harder to change than a bike tyre – given that the ‘ rider ‘ is likely to be far less able to deal with the challenge in the first place.

But the new tyre went on so much easier.
Think those Kenda mtb tyres they supply are just too small and therefore ridiculously tight.

A 24 inch Blackjack tyre went on so much more easily.
Used loads of talcum powder on the rim so next time it should be easier.

Possibly one of the most stressful 3 hours of my life, and I’ve had my challenges.

Thank god for GG s help.

I asked my mate Phil what he does.
He said he uses washing up liquid to stop the tyres welding on.
But when he goes out in the rain, his wheelchair becomes a bubble making machine.
Top tip 😂

One of the conversations I’ve only been having since I’ve been in a wheelchair.

Hello, it’s Eurostar calling. You booked assistance to get onto the train at Amsterdam later today.

Me- Hi yes, I did.

Them- We have a problem. The elevator isn’t working at Amsterdam Central so we need you to go to Rotterdam to board your train, because the lifts there are working fine.

Me – Ok, and how do I get to Rotterdam?

Them – On a Eurostar train

Me- From where?

Them – Amsterdam Central

Me- How can I do that if the lifts aren’t working?

Them- that’s why we are asking you to go to Rotterdam

Me- but how do I get to Rotterdam?

Them ( again ) – on a Eurostar train.

Me- but how can I catch a train from Amsterdam Central in my wheelchair if the lifts aren’t working?

Them – You catch a Eurostar Red train going to Paris.

Now it’s pretty clear to me ( and bear in mind this is passenger assistance calling a fella in a wheelchair ) that’s it’s not abundantly clear how I can get onto a train in Amsterdam when the lift isn’t working.

What i want the assistance person to explain to me is how the new plan is going to work. If the lift to the Paris train is a different lift, and that one is working, and this is a workaround then tell me maybe, because it’s not 100% obvious.

I’m told to go to the station an hour earlier than before.
I duly do, in fact 90 minutes before.
When we get there, there is total confusion ( as expected ). Staff don’t know about the lift status. Lots of them look confused and some take to their phones. Lots of ‘ checking ‘ seems to be going on.
The person at the gate tells me it’s not his job. I say ‘ that’s why I’ve given you the name of the assistance person who specifically said she would come down and take care of me’ …

More confusion- don’t know who she is?

Another fella walks by, wearing a pass.
He asks what’s going on.
We tell him.
He phones the assistance desk and eventually the lady comes. She is smiley, but one of those people who use a thousand words when 10 would do.
The more she says, the more confused I get.
The lift is now working, but at the same time it’s not working, she said. That really filled me with confidence. I just looked at her, thinking ‘ ffs can you just not tell me what I have to do to get on my train , and do it by leading me through the station via the correct route to end up where I need to be ?’

But no, she couldn’t do that. Instead she said another thousand words that didn’t sound promising.

Eventually we went quite a long way to a gated barrier far away, to a promising looking lift.
Not too soon mate! This lift to the Plan B option was out of service.

She and two colleagues then talked for about 10 minutes in Dutch.
Then she proposed that I catch another train, then another one again, to get me to eventually join my booked train journey somewhere else, in another far flung station.
I said ‘ two more trains and two more sets of ramp assistance?’ Yes, she said.
No, I said. That sounds ridiculous.

I was then told to wait inside a ticket office place until someone else came.

I then received 3 phone calls from Eurostar assistance.. and it was apparent that they didn’t know I was ( allegedly) already being helped.

More waiting around… and then a guard who was very much acting urgently told me to follow him as we only had 4 minutes to catch the train.
I’d been inside the station for 90 minutes by this point.
Gina and I then chased this fella running through the station. He was the first person I had even a molecule of confidence in, despite it looking like we’d miss the train we were rushing to.

We didn’t miss it though. It wasn’t a Eurostar train, it was a regular train going to Rotterdam, and we got on it, and ramp people were there in Rotterdam to get me off it.

Now we are on a Eurostar train to London.

Unless you are in a wheelchair, you don’t know the half of it, I’m telling you.