Wednesday...

           We took Nora to BCCH for an appointment yesterday & found a
shortage of wheelchair spaces in the parking lot.  One of the reasons was
that there was a Canadian Springs delivery truck occupying both of two such
spaces at the main entrance to the lobby & the emergency ward.  Last
time we tried to use the ramp at this same location, it was blocked by a
guy who couldn't care less about our problems because (without knowing
anything about our situation) he felt his kid was in worse shape than ours.
 We seem to have a lot of petty aggravations like this in our lives these
days... often several of them in the same day.  So when Nora told me later
yesterday afternoon that Paul wanted her to take her glasses to school
today I was *not* in a mood to suffer fools gladly.  Who's Paul & why
should I care what he wants??  She didn't know.  Eventually she remembered
he's a "vision specialist".  Okay.  I don't suppose he has any
idea Nora hasn't used these glasses for ten years, however, except for
about thirty seconds each year when somebody else comes up with the same
idea.  I don't suppose it occurred to him that after four months of
reorganizing the house we might have other things on our minds or that
whatever prescription Nora had before her stroke might not be appropriate
now.  Perhaps I've spent too much time in hospital lately.  When folks
there want me to do something they usually have the courtesy to introduce
themselves first.  The ones who don't are the flunkies who assume Nora will
hop up on the examining table or stand on a platform the size of a postage
stamp in order to be weighed & measured... even though she's arrived in
a wheelchair!  I wrote Paul a rather snarky note, because I had a
hysterical kid on my hands who was afraid to go to school because she
thought this guy would be mad at her.  I said "Fine... he can be mad
at me."  More later, when I hear from Paul....  :-)




--- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+