On a blood sample, a better way to get into a wheelchair and co-workers

Okay, let me see, in what order did everything happen today?

I guess the first thing is that I got a call from the RCMP about the collision. It seems they found traces of blood on the suspect’s vehicle. Would I consent to giving a blood sample? He was about to go on with the relevant due diligence when I answered: “Yes, yes, yes! I would be happy too!” I didn’t say “I’ll do anything to nail that S.O.B., preferably to the floor!” He went on to say that he would contact the Montreal Police to collect a blood sample. He again went into a due diligence mode which I cut short observing that any number of blood samples had been taken from me since the incident and that one more made no difference. I hope I wasn’t too brusque to the officer.

In the afternoon, the occupational therapist and Alberto, a patient attendant, arrived with a reclining back wheelchair that they believed was my size. After placing a harness under me, they attached it to overhead crane. With one of them holding my legs, I was lifted up, moved sideways and gently put into the wheelchair. No muss, not much fuss, and, sure as hell, none of the trauma of my previous wheelchair experiment. 

Shortly thereafter, two of my co-workers arrived. One of them was Mearaid, my supervisor, and Katie, who is in charge of Home Library Services, previous known as the Shut-In Service. (When the name of the service changed, I joked that that the way to remember it was to think HLS = Hells, as in Hells Grannies, referring to the Monty Python sketch.) They brought with them a card signed by my co-workers, and an embarrassing number of gifts, including a lovely Discworld T-shirt which featured an illustration of the Librarian from Unseen University. Katie pushed me down the hall to the “Vivoir” room which had a corner view of the outside world. I believe it has multiple purposes, as it features a nice table to have a game of cards as well as various items suitable for torture, I mean physiotherapy. ;-)

Katie and Mearaid

We chatted for some time, before they had to return to work. I was pulled back to my room, where I waited for the relevant parties to get me back into my bed. When this was done, a flaw in the system emerged. My bed had been turned perpendicular to the crane track and in the process, the bed’s air pump was disconnected. The mattress was surprisingly low on air, at least the bit below my rump which let it settle on a metal cross member. While the air pump was reconnected, it sure is taking an awfully long time to re-inflate.