Life is Like a Tube of Toothpaste

I have been trying to perservere with the new indoor wheelchair. It has been sitting in my ensuite toilet since before the holiday. The chair arrived 6 weeks ago but I have had to arrange for various people to fit other bits to it before it was useable. Having returned from the holiday to discover the current indoor wheelchair was now extremely difficult to drive, the prospect of switching to the new one which I already knew had a harder joystick and required greater accuracy due to its larger size, isn't one I have been looking forward to. I was forced to use it the day we returned from holiday because my current one hadn't been on charge for two weeks. I only used the new one for a few hours while the other charged up.


So today I decided to give it a go. I managed to use it for a few hours including a two trips between bedroom and lounge, but the second return trip was almost impossible being completely unable to manage any left movement. So I have reverted back for the remainder of the day to the old wheelchair. I have already arranged for the wheelchair technician to visit to make some more adjustments to the controller positioning, but I think the issue is beyond the point where it will help.

Trying to extract the last tiniest amount of strength in my arm is like trying to get the last bit of toothpaste from the tube. Last year I was rolling up the tube, at the beginning of this year I had cut the tube open to scrape out the remaining residue and now I am using a single toothbrush bristle to get at the almost invisible amount within the thread of the screw cap. Unfortunately this analagy doesn't extend to the step of getting a new tube out of the cupboard!