Alrighty, update time!
Yes, I rewrote the Super Luigi U review. Didn’t change my mind, but still. Also, yes, I bought Ride to Hell: Retribution. I wish to apologise to the world for doing that. I knew it was going to be bad; everyone said, “This is a terrible game.” I just didn’t realise they meant it was THAT terrible.
Anyhow, I’ve got my mid-year “Top and Bottom 5” thing to happen tomorrow. In context, I’m a big fan of film critic Mark Kermode and in honour of his annual tradition I sort of blatantly do my video-game equivalent, the best and worst five games I’ve played since January. And it’s been six months of extreme highs and lows, with some middling content in between. It does at least make the task a little easier as the best and worst shine – and stink – more distinctly than any other year so far. I will begin on that a little later.
On a more personal note, I woke up with a chubby bird. By that, I mean a pigeon. Somehow, in some way, a pigeon had managed to get into my property sometime in the days prior to waking up with it pecking at my neck – I’m not joking, it was pecking at my neck (there’s a skin tag there which probably misled the poor thing!). Let’s just say we were both very startled that morning. Otherwise, it seemed quite timid and calm and allowed me to pick it up and put him outside again. There was no ring tag on his leg, so I don’t think it was a racing bird or anything. It didn’t seemed to have made a mess anywhere, though I’m sure I have just yet to find where it was hiding. Or how it got in here in the first place. I mean, sure, spiders can creep in through cracks but a pigeon requires a hole, surely?
I’m almost fed up at the home intruders of late. From a stray dog to the police clambering in as I’m doing the tumble drying, the back window has become more of a front door than my front door. I do keep it shut unless I am tumble drying now. Pretty sure the pigeon didn’t come in that way. Although I assume you just never really know.
Anyway, I am waiting to hear from my new occupational therapist. I need an assessment done on home modifications and the possibility of a long-term wheelchair.
Now, wheelchairs are funny things. And considering I’m not exactly on deaths door any more (no thanks to the doctors at the hospital, that’s for sure!), there’s talk about renting a wheelchair. Except I’ve got to thinking that if I am going to need more of a long-term wheelchair, I’d much rather we looked into and discussed the option of purchasing one. One that is designed for me. I’m not going to end up with an electrical one, that’s for sure, it’s grossly unnecessary in context considering my arms are alright. But I can’t see an off-the-shelf rental one quite working for me either. When you consider a half-decent one costs £200-£300, spending a little more on something which arguably going to give me the mobility and freedom I want over the next decade, it just makes sense rather than a rental service (which is £15 a month) that we should be more discussing a longer-term investment Even a half decent one would have paid for itself after a year or so.
I also want it to look kind of cool. I am just THAT vain these days, and I genuinely do not want people to feel sorry for me. I hate it. I hate those looks of sympathy. I know I shouldn’t, but something about it just makes me very very uncomfortable. I know that’s just conceit on my part, but I am going through catalogues and pamphlets trying to find something that makes me go, “Ooh!”. I haven’t quite found it yet. But hey, I’ve got the assessment and it does seem unlikely we won’t be talking about a wheelchair to get me outside every day once more. As for home modifications… chances are, we’ll be looking at a move there. Many of the modifications that are likely necessary right now would require me to move out of the flat anyway. No-one seems to be in disagreement on that front so far. So I will be looking for a new place to live sometime soon as well. Somewhere more mobility-friendly.
Which is all going to be a challenge. Still, can’t be any worse than here where my back window is one letterbox away from a door.
It’ll be an awkward few months ahead, but change happens and has to happen. Until then, I am just going to pull myself around the flat as-is and try my best to be happy and have something that resembles a life in the interim period. Looking ahead, I’m sure there’s nothing but adventure and fun awaiting me. But it’ll be complex, and difficult and no doubt compromise will have to happen. I hate that word. “Compromise”.
Still, I maintain it could be worse. I’m rather excited at the prospect of a new wheelchair though.
If nothing else, I am going to decal the hell out of it!