We celebrated 25 years in our house last Sunday. Coincidentally, that was also Henry’s birthday. When ‘Husband in a Hurry’ iniatally shared with me that we were moving from Hampshire, my home, to East Sussex, which I’d never heard of, the only way he could get me to agree was to suggest that this would only be for 3 years. I moved on the understanding that I would return to my home.
In the 25 years, yes, a quarter of a century, I have moved on in my progression of MS. Back home I was struggling a little to stay on my toes. I used walls to support me and I bumped downstairs on my bottom, which was safer. So, in our new house, house not bungalow, we had a stair lift installed. That was the first of a slippery slope into my present state.
Husband in a Hurry (HIAH) knew of my reticence to move and was keen to soften the reality by suggesting that I might find it helpful to use an indoor wheelchair around our new home, which had dual opening internal doors. This also saved a series of finger marks all over our freshly painted walls. This was useful to me, however with hindsight I would probably have benefited from staying upright on two legs for as long as possible.
As my MS has moved on, each new presentation has been met with a solution: use of the hoists and shower chair, eating food with one hand, using drinking straws; all those little things that add up to my total loss of independence. We have fitted lowered units to the kitchen, we have allowed for ramps throughout the house, we have made every adaption necessary, but when HIAH hurt his back badly last March it became clear that something major must happen.
Here we are then, conversion of double garage into my new ground floor bedroom and wet room. This began on Monday, well, I say that, the building work began Monday but the planning started last Spring. It’s been hard for HIAH to give up his garage. What is it with men, garages and sheds?
As I’m the one who is going to be spending my time in this new ‘suite’ I feel I should be involved. However, at the start of this week men were talking ‘manly things’ to each other, such as taking extra feet from the living space, to make the wet room bigger. We have a lot of drilling, hammering, dust and a Porta Potty in the front garden, which is good because it saves trailing through my house all the time. The builders have their own means of making hot drinks, they provide their own lunches and despite my son-in-law’s assurances, they are not demanding biscuits.
Today I had a long consultation with our Project Manager, Peter, and I am feeling a lot more comfortable and included.
To be continued….