Tag Archives: Wheelchair transport

Is your Plug Male or Female……..

Today’s tale is a bit vulgar….but I find honesty to be the best policy.

As my faithful readers know, I, with no training or inherent skills, have become a wheelchair repair expert over the last few years. I was able to get a different BIL (code for brother-in-law) to transport the humungous wheelchair to the rehab center, so disabled BIL would be able to get out of bed every day. By the way, there is no service, or transport that will take an empty wheelchair…well….anywhere….you have to find your own way to get it there.

One day, I’m walking down the hall of the rehab center and the physical therapist is manually pushing the electric behemoth with my BIL in the chair.

“What’s up?” I ask her.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re here. No one can figure out how to get this operational.”

Because it had been a month since my BIL was even in the chair, and memory issues are a part of his disease, he was of no help either. In 2 minutes, I had everyone  operational and instructed for the forseeable future.

Then we went home.

I stayed with my BIL for about 6 hours that day. As happy as he was to be back in his apartment, he was feeling insecure and squeamish and not ready to be alone. I arrived home in time for an 8:00 PM conference call.

At 9:00 PM my phone rang.

“Hello, Cathy, this is the caregiver.”

“Hey, what’s up? Is he okay?”

“Oh, he’s fine, no problems. But we can’t plug in his wheelchair. It seems like a piece of the plug is missing that connects to the battery. So we can’t charge the chair.”

UGH. He needs that chair. He needs to be out of bed and as upright and mobile as possible to have a life where he goes to meals, talks to friends, plays SODUKU on his computer.

“Okay, I’ll come in the morning and look at it.” I must’ve been very tired. I’m still not a wheelchair repair person, what was I going to do?

Before I left the house, I called the wheelchair repair people, who told me the only thing they can do is order an entire new charger which would take 3 weeks.  When I asked what he’s supposed to do in the meantime, wheelchair repair guy thought for a minute or two (really??? no one has ever asked you THAT before?) And told me he could look around and see if they had a loaner charger, but that would take a day or two.

As I set my hair on fire in protest (only in my mind) I went over to my BIL’s apt. examined the plug and set off for the rehab center. I checked his room, as they had just cleaned it, we called down to housekeeping, I went to the nurses’ station, therapy rooms, front desk and had the social worker call the ambulance transport to look for it. No dice.

I went to my book club and my French Class. Mai oui…..I do some things for my self!

Then I returned to his apartment, there was the charger plugged in. But as my engineer BIL told me, truthfully, it was smoke and mirrors. It wasn’t charging at all. I showed the plug to him and hoped he had some brilliant insight. Nope. So I said to him:

“Well, you know what Nana would say?” She had a fine adage for problems when something would just not fit into a hole.

“Yep,” he nodded, “put a little hair around it.”  Yep, that’s what she always said.

Luckily BIL is a fiscal conservative and only used 3% of his power that day.

We then had the brilliant idea to call some local durable medical equipment providers and one dear soul sent me to Interstate Battery. As I was leaving with high hopes and the battery, my BIL said:

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but as an old man would say, I think you’re pissing up a rope!”

So with those axioms under my belt and a big huge 24 Volt battery in my arms like a newborn. I went to a big, ol’ manly grease monkey, full-of-testosterone battery warehouse.

And this is where the Good Samaritan works when he is not out on the road rescuing.

Keith worked for thirty or forty minutes to rig this battery charger so I could use it. The first thing he asked me is if it’s a male or female plug. I considered my Nana’s advice, but that didn’t lead me to any conclusion. I suppose I should have been able to deduct the answer, but I panicked and just looked as cute as I could. In that environment, I was a shoe-in.

By the way, there was never a missing part. It had been so abused over time by pulling it out by the cord that it basically pulled the charging plugs too far down into the casing.

Keith told me he has a few friends in wheelchairs and he sees this all the time, where they can’t get timely repairs and no one seems to care. He told me to just ‘Pay it Forward.’ I told him I try to do that, and he said, “well then, now it’s coming back to you!”

Sometimes…..”You just have to SMILE….and laughing never hurts, either.”

© Cathy Sikorski 2015

I am ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille

You probably have noticed that whenever you go to the doctor now you must have a photo ID. And said photo ID must be valid and up to date, especially if you are a Medicare patient. So don’t even THINK that  you are going to pass muster if you have that dirty old expired driver’s license, a left over ID on an old ratty lanyard from two jobs ago, where there was actual security or that expired passport that you haven’t used in 20 years because you’re now 85 years old.

So this can be a dilemma for the old, infirm or disabled. Here is the story of my brother-in-law, “L”, who continues to be and will forever be wheel-chair bound with Multiple Sclerosis.  This photo ID requirement is fairly new. I remember going to L’s house, struggling to get him down the stairs, into an electric wheel chair in the basement, into his manual wheel chair and out to the car for a doctor’s appointment. And I remember the first time they asked for a photo ID. Now, he didn’t drive to the appointment, and for some reason we forgot his wallet, so there we were, high and dry. But since it was the first time they asked for photo ID, and he had been a patient there for FIFTEEN YEARS, they were willing to wait for his next visit to keep a copy of his lovely face. It was probably because he also was not on Medicare at the time and so they wouldn’t get in any trouble for not recognizing a patient from a decade and a half and requiring that pesky photo.

Okay, so lesson learned. Now, for the past five years or so, I always take that photo ID. But about two years ago, I noticed that his ID, which is his driver’s license, was about to expire. L doesn’t drive anymore. He can’t. He would be a menace to society, and he took that driving privilege pretty darn far. But, and thank God, they still send him a driver’s license. I was perfectly willing to get him a ‘government issued ID’, until I discovered the requirements. In order to get this ID, he would relinquish his driver’s license and apply for the ID, but he must show an electric bill, or a rental agreement, or a deed, to show his valid address. Never mind the fact that his valid address is on the driver’s license which they gladly give him without any of those requirements. L is in a facility. He doesn’t pay an electric bill, he doesn’t really have a rental agreement and he only has an apartment number within the facility for his mailbox. So I asked myself: “Is it easier to go through this craziness for an ID, and perhaps be left without one, OR is it easier to just go get his picture taken and keep the damn driver’s license?”( Since no one is saying he can’t drive and/or even asking if he does drive).

Well, of course, I will just take him to the photo center, wheel him right up to the camera, and SNAP, we’re done. NOT SO FAST, CRAZY CAREGIVER. Now that he is wheelchair bound, and I truly can’t lift him or  help him in and out of a car, I have ordered wheelchair transport for him for all of his appointments. He has to pay for this because Medicare won’t pay for  you to go to the doctor. They will only pay for you to go in an ambulance (and even that is suspect…see my blog ‘DO YOU REALLY NEED AND AMBULANCE….I THINK NOT posted 06/28/2013). So you see you can’t keep yourself from getting sick, or take good medical care of  yourself. Insurance just wants you to get really, really, really sick and THEN you can go to the doctor.

So we pay for transport. Okay, fine. I call the transport company:

“Hello? I need a transport.”

“Okay, to where?”

” I need to transport L (they know L, he’s a regular like on Cheers!) to the driver’s license photo center, so he can get his photo ID.”

“Oh, sorry, no we can’t do that,”

” What? What do you mean you can’t do that?”

” We can only transport him to any medical facility or for any  medical necessity. Our insurance does not permit us to transport for any willy-nilly reason.”

“Hmmm,” I say as I restrain myself from ripping out a hunk of my hair,” but we pay privately. WE PAY EVERY PENNY FOR HIS TRANSPORT. OUR INSURANCE WON’T PAY YOU.”

“Yes, I know, I understand what you mean, but I’m talking about our liability insurance. We can only transport for medical reasons. We are an ambulance company.”

“Ok, fine. Do you know any transport company that is NOT an ambulance company that will transport L for reasons that do not appear medical?”

“Ummm, no sorry.”

“Really? You’re in the transport business and you don’t know anyone else who can help us?’

“Nope.”

“Well, thanks, that’s just swell.”

So I suppose the alternative one…the ‘government issued ID’ is the way I have to go, or he won’t be allowed to go to any doctors or hospitals.  I just have to figure out how to meet their requirements to show  his valid address. I want to scream… wait, I think I am screaming and no one hears it. AND THEN THE GOOD SAMARITAN ARRIVES.

L and I had an appointment the next day with the ambulance company for a LEGIT doctor’s appointment. I couldn’t help myself. I lamented to the driver that I couldn’t get L to the photo center, and it was kind of a medical necessity because he needed that ID to get treatment anywhere. So after the doctor’s appointment, we made a quick stop at the photo center, rolled right in there where no one was waiting. SNAP! took the adorable photo of L…and we’re good to go for another four years. Can’t wait to see how I tackle this one the next time around…..O SNAP! Thank you good Samaritan.

You just have to laugh…….

Cathy Sikorski