Wheelchairs break. To fix them, you call a wheelchair repair guy. The first time I did this, it was because the joy stick was not working properly.
“Hi, this is the repairman. I’m at the apartment.”
“Yes,” I said, ” I’m so glad you’re there.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not allowed to work in the chair if the guy is in it.”
“But it’s only the joystick,” I said. “He can’t do anything if his chair doesn’t work, and unless you are going to lift him into his bed, you can’t fix it.”
“I’ll have to come back when he ‘s not in the chair.”
“Okay, when will that be? Can you tell me and I will make sure he is in his bed at that time.”
“No,” he said, “you have to call and make an appointment.”
Round One: Wheelchair repair guy.
The next time it was broken, I made sure that my brother-in-law wasn’t in the chair when they were coming.
“Okay,” the new wheelchair repair guy said, “we can fix it, but we have to take it with us.”
“I sincerely hope you brought another chair with you,” I said, “because you can’t strand him in bed until you get the parts you need. ”
“Ummm, yeah ok, we got a chair in the van.”
I rush over to his apartment, there sits a 1957 circa barely electric wheelchair for a person of very small stature. He looks like he’s practicing to be a contortionist.
Round Two: Wheelchair repair guy.
Last week the wheels became so stripped from bumping into the footrest that I called them to replace the wheels.
I made sure my brother-in-law was not in the chair. He was safely tucked in his bed watching TV. I made sure they knew exactly what was wrong with the chair so they could bring the requisite parts. I made sure they had my cell number to call in case of any problems. And I emphasized that he needs this chair. Period.
Okay, I admit, at the time of the wheelchair repair appointment, I was at my book club discussing The Burgess Boys and how messed up the world is. I see a call come through on my cell, and it’s the wheelchair repair guy.
“Hello, is everything ok?”
“No, ma’am. I have been knocking and knocking on the door but no one answers.”
It was so very hard for me to remain calm.
“Well, sir. I can understand that. You see, it’s your company policy not to allow the customer to be in the wheelchair when you are there. So in order for that to happen, he is confined to his bed and cannot get up and answer the door. A Catch-22 wouldn’t you say?”
Silence at the other end of the line.
“Why don’t you just knock, and then go in? Okay?” I tell him.
“Well, I guess this one time. We’re not supposed to go in, if no one answers the door.”
This is a wheelchair repair guy.
Round three: Wheelchair repair guy.
Yup, I just can’t win.
“You just have to Laugh…..”
Cathy Sikorski
This reminds me of British comedian Stewart Lee’s, Apple Shop Sketch from his television show Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle from 2009. Now it’s hard to find that clip in your country but Bill Y promises you that if you do find it, you will laugh so much that you will hurt!
There should be garages like Pep Boys or Auto Repair for servicing wheelchairs.
Oh man…this reminds me of my days as a social worker, when one of my quadriplegic clients had her very specialized, very expensive chair dropped about 20 feet by some airline luggage handlers. Oddly, it did not survive the fall. My client had to make do with a manual chair for ONE FULL YEAR…and then people wondered why she was depressed! I totally feel your pain and frustration in this one. Makes you want to take up wheelchair repair as a hobby!
Yes..that’s exactly what I want to do..infect them with the earworm of Wheels on the Bus. It only seems fair.
Cathy, I don’t know why but the song “The Wheels on the bus go round and round” kept popping in my head. Maybe we can adapt the lyrics to go with your situation and that might scare the wheelchair company into fixing the problem quickly