Wheel chairs and shopping

I’d never really had to think about what it must be like to be unable to walk, apart from the twice I broke my foot! The first time was the worst, as it was a bigger injury and I spent weeks wheeling myself around on a black, imitation leather, office chair to do everything I normally do in the house, you know like sweeping the floors, cooking, washing up etc and if I was lucky I’d get wheeled outside for a change of scenery but that was always a major task due to the rough terrain of the rickety flagstone path and gravel, it always presented an element of risk. The second time I just put up with the pain and walked the best I could with a cast, moulded to my foot.

Daddio has been in bed for around two weeks with a severe bout of gout and is, as expected nearly tearing his hair out. Every time I go around he was shrieking in pain as little Nelson (chi) launches himself at his foot, like he thinks it may be helpful. Mummio has decided to take to her sick bed as well, I joke that it’s probably due to the stress of actually having to participate in real life, like going to the chemist (which she managed fine), cooking (jury is out), putting fuel in her car (first time in 50 years), that could have been a disaster though as she went to a manned petrol station and asked for €20 of fuel. She was pretty lucky she actually ended up with petrol rather than diesel as she wouldn’t have been able to call for help as I suspect the mobile phone she has carried around for years, unable to turn on, would have been flat and she would never have been actually able to remember the code anyway. She did manage a little bit of shopping but could only manage to purchase bread, milk and cheese as she only went out with €10 and didn’t know how to use her credit card. Seriously though we're all very proud of the way she has embraced the tasks that she has never had to contend with before and she's had to do them whilst feeling poorly.

   Anyway I received the phone call from Daddio this week, requesting that I take him shopping. Panic raced through my veins! How the hell would I manage to maneuver a 20  odd stone man into and out of a car, into a wheel chair and then push a trolley whilst supervising the wheel chair???? Why couldn’t he just give me a list????

Daddio somehow managed to put his own wheel chair, which refused to collapse, into his car and we met up after I  had dropped off a customers car, and proceeded to Lidl. Now, I’m not the best person at shopping, as I suffer the most dreadful trolley rage. The old people & some young, who have all the time in the world, dither in the isles, debating the pros and cons of Heinz baked beans or for 2 cent cheaper Branstons or whatever. Then they block the isles whilst looking at the bargain basement isle so you can’t move! They really should invent a one way system, you know like in Ikea, although in Ikea, it always reminds me of going to see father Christmas, following the arrows, but you never get to father Christmas and get the present at the end, which is always  big disappointment. There needs to be better organisation in the supermarkets. If I was in charge of supermarkets, not only would they have a one way system with give way signs at the end of every isle, it would be more organised at the checkouts. I’m fantastic at check outs. My groceries are on the conveyor belt promptly, thrown on haphazardly, admittedly, as my worst nightmare would be the groceries going through before I’d unloaded the trolley and it has happened a few times when you get a bloody Speedy Gonzles throwing the items through, faster than you can put them on, until you get a pile up on the other side, forget your plastic carrier bags and have to throw it in your trolley before opening your purse, which I normally do after unloading onto the conveyor belt and I get the right money out as I add it up whilst I’m going around. It’s a very old habit, dating back to the days when I was on a very strict budget of €50 a week, for a big shop. Then its sods law that you drop your purse and have to scramble about on the floor, chasing your coins, red faced and flustered whilst the people behind you are tutting, loudly.

So, we arrive at Lidl, the busiest branch in the Costa Blanca. I manage to unload the wheelchair without scratching the paint work on Daddio’s car. We manged to seat Daddio, after a few attempts and then I have to push…….. Now I’m no light weight but it was a struggle to push him, so he resulted in moving his own wheels, which incidentally he was quite good at. As I got the trolley, he’d gained quite a few yards on me and wheelchair 131 ( must have been a hospital wheel chair at some point), manged to enter the store before me. It took a few isles to gain a rhythm. We tried with me in front, with the trolley but I went too fast, so I went behind and he pointed at stuff for me to put in the trolley (think Little Britain). It was going quite well, until we both decided to aim for the cashew nuts at the same time, I slightly lost my balance and crashed into his bad foot!!!!! Well, I’ve never heard Daddio swear so much AND in public. I had a flashback of being 17 and in a crowded pub, in Woodley, where I grew up and turning around straight into a burns victim, dressed from head to toe in bandages. He also cursed, whilst I stood there, muttering apologies, whilst the whole pub went quiet and stopped to look at the idiot who had stood on the poor burns victim in her white stilettos! Utterly mortifying it was. I bet his scars healed in time but that incident has scarred me physiologically for life. Mummio would have departed in embarrassment, at this stage but I stayed with it and waited for it to pass which it apparently didn’t and I’ve put his recovery back a week at least!

We managed the rest of the shop and an added trip to Iceland, without incident and I didn’t lose my temper once. People managed to stay out of our way and looked on with pity in their eyes, probably aimed at me with having to cope with it all!

Can I have a list next week???????