So with the sun shining and my cold finally gone, I managed to get out on my other chair yesterday, what could go wrong. Well actually, nothing really. Apart from the usual choking session on an iced bun and suffering the patronising palace staff, it was a very pleasant day with my mum in the sunshine.
OK, sorry, have to elaborate on the guide in the palace who was called to help escort me to the lift. Having finished talking to the senior citizen in her wheelchair who was also seeking the lift, she approached me.
Now, maybe it was her overhearing my incomprensible slurrings to my mum, my slumped posture in my chair or the wonky smile I responded with after she said "OK Dear?" to me, but whichever it was, she decided to put to good use what she had been trained to say when dealing with a halfwit. After confirming that it was her expert opinion a lift would be required to get me to the 1st floor, she wanted to explain I would need to wait while she escorted the first wheelchair before escorting me. "It will be 5 (holding up open hand) minutes (pointing at watch ) before I can take you " she shouted, annunciating every syllable, thus covering the options of me being blind, deaf or simple. The fact that she felt the need to repeat the process... twice, suggested that she had concluded I fell into the latter category.
It was all wasted on me anyway (as I ignored her and simply followed on the (w)heels of the other wheelchair) because knowing where the lift was, it would save 5 minutes by simply waiting at the lift and not a 5 minute walk away. When you have a terminal illness every minute counts. And, more importantly I wanted her to know that not only was I not simple, I was smarter than her. Petty? Maybe, but when your only fully working faculty is overlooked, you feel the need to put it in the spotlight.
By the time we had reached the lift, my cunning plan had been spotted, but I was only rewarded with "OK You wait here, I will be back down for you in a minute, DON'T WORRY " Instead of ramming 250kg of wheelchair into her frigging legs, I did my crooked smile and made my "OK" noise. However, after subsequently being told that I would need to reverse my chair out of the lift I had driven into forwards and enthusiastically commended on how I (with limited mental ability ) managed to turn 90 degrees while reversing out, I regretted the missed opportunity.