Today I took my mother to the hospital for a fitting of her new boots wot they are making for her, bless them.
Wheelchair into car, help mum into car, drive to hospital, nowhere to park so enter through wrong entrance, haul mum out of car and into wheelchair, Spend 20 minutes trying to find right place, wait 40 minutes in hot stuffy waiting area ( not too long - early appointment). At least she likes the look of the boots although whether she'll wear them is a different matter. Get lost again trying to find our back out. (I could see the car through a window - but couldn't get to it.) loose my cool with a voice in the machine at the exit gate as I hadn't quite followed the right procedures with my ticket and no he wouldn't let us through we would have to back up, re-park and get it authorised by which time the last disabled slot had been taken so I rebeliously double parked and ran in as fast as my knees would let me. By this time it was nearly lunch time so we called back to mum's house to pick up her Dog Who Must Be Obeyed and around whom the world revolves, and go to our favourite pub for lunch. (Had to give dog a run first of course.) Nice people in pub are willing to serve us in the car and we can park facing the river. Time to relax for half an hour before heading to do the shopping, drive back to mum's, unload shopping, wheelchair, mother and dog. Then I just had to change the sheets, do the washing up, clear up a bit and get her tea ready, have a cup of tea while sorting out bills and stuff before driving home.
Am now sitting here with a large G & T and wondering how on earth full time carers cope.