What people don't realise is that walking with a Rollator is very tiring. Luckily Priscilla can't read so she can't see that that is what I think of her. But it is almost half past three in the afternoon and it wasn't until half an hour ago when friends T and S called that I had had a minutes peace other then five minutes to eat my lunch and that was interrupted by a phone call.
Let me tell you about my morning. My carer came at half past seven to half past eight. When she had gone I had to smarten myself up, tidy away various things, take my walker through to the bedroom in order to get my anorak out of the wardrobe, lock the front door, open the garage door, negotiate Priscilla on to the front of the garage, close the garage door, negotiate the steep front drive to the side of the road - and arrive just in time for the arrival of my taxi.
A short drive brought me to the Hairdresser where I had to wait for the driver to bring Priscilla out of the boot, open her up and bring her round and help me to get my hands on her handlebars and then open the door to help me into the salon. Then it is take off my anorak while holding on with one hand as I am too wobbly to stand unaided, hang up my anorak, negotiate Priscilla to the washbasin, take out hearing aids and take off specs and put them on the shelf and then steer Priscilla over to the chair for my shampoo and afterwards back to the chair ready for the neatening up process.
Then I left the hairdresser, walked a hundred yards down the road, crossed on the crossing, walked back on the other side and into the Newsagents to buy stamps, birthday cards, pay last month's paper bill, then sit and wait for the taxi to arrive (I had forgotten my mobile but the assistant kindly phoned my taxi to tell them I was ready.)
Once home the builder had arrived to work on my drain - he has made a super, tidy job of it - it looks lovely. I made him a cup of tea and then had my lunch (my carer had put it in the micro wave ready for me to switch on). During lunch I arranged with my son on the phone for the builder to go round there when he had finished and look at a little job my son wanted doing. (that had a satisfactory ending).
Then the mail came and I opened it, disposed of some, filed some, checked my bank statement, filed it away, washing up the lunch pots (I no longer use the dishwasher unless I have visitors - wastes too much water and electricity) drying them and putting them away. Then it is - thank the builder (who is off to look at my son's job)-sit down to write my blog, answer the door bell, it is friends T and S - thank goodness - T and I between us make a coffee and for an hour we sit and chat in the sitting room.
Bear in mind all this has been done using Priscilla or her cousin who is quite like her but slightly lighter weight. Negotiating corners, missing furniture, generally 'driving' what is quite a cumbersome machine.
Now four o'clock and no walk today in spite of a very pleasant day. There has been no time. Every step, which once seemed so easy, is an effort. But it keeps me mobile and upright and keeps me meeting and chatting to folk - and I wouldn't have it any other way. But until it happens to us we don't realise just how muc effort is involved.
Not a moan dear blog friends just an observation. In the days when I was mobile the whole lot above would take an hour - now it takes a day.