, but it's a bit much when an official organisation smacks a don't wake me up notice on me because they cock up the bureaucracy. This time, an ambulance technician didn't have his eye on the ball, trapped the seatbelt under the chair in the wheels, and after some very bad Star Wars trash compactor noises, the belt was rendered somewhat less of a safety feature. Another bit got knocked off somewhere on the journey as well. I can still use it, but the damage needs fixing and was completely avoidable. Further, the ambulance needed to take me to a hospital long distance, and nowhere near enough time was factored in by the journey planners. This particular appointment is for a condition which lacks considerable resources across the NHS. Appointments are hard to get hold of. A rebooking is normally the best part of a year away. And due to the late running of this particular service, I missed a vital fifty per cent of it and){kind=link}
When will those building and buying ambulances speak to Disabled people about our needs before signing on the dotted line?
I love my wheelchair. It gives me the ability to save myself from physical pain and exhaustion. I can stand and walk a bit, but not always. I’m one of 1.2 million wheelchair users in the UK, and â surprise! A third of us can walk. Sometimes. But it’s painful, or we risk falling or other impairment, or it knackers us out too much. Or we can only do it a bit. This is shock news to so many people.
There is still a myth that if you use a chair for some of the time, you’re ânot disabled enough’. As if we are all Andy in Little Britain, faking it to be âlazy’. I love my wheelchair even more when it works. And this week, it doesn’t entirely work. I took a trip on a G4S patient transport ambulance. I’ve had trouble with these before, when, during Covid, a DNR notice was put on my records. I’m not exactly unprone to the occasional death threat for having opinions (welcome to the world of womanhood in the public eye â see last week’s column), but it’s a bit much when an official organisation smacks a don’t wake me up notice on me because they cock up the bureaucracy.
This time, an ambulance technician didn’t have his eye on the ball, trapped the seatbelt under the chair in the wheels, and after some very bad Star Wars trash compactor noises, the belt was rendered somewhat less of a safety feature. Another bit got knocked off somewhere on the journey as well. I can still use it, but the damage needs fixing and was completely avoidable.
Further, the ambulance needed to take me to a hospital long distance, and nowhere near enough time was factored in by the journey planners. This particular appointment is for a condition which lacks considerable resources across the NHS. Appointments are hard to get hold of. A rebooking is normally the best part of a year away. And due to the late running of this particular service, I missed a vital fifty per cent of it and was lucky to be seen at all.