We're all doomed

This morning we went in to visit father around 10:30. When we got there Natasha informed us that someone from Occupational Therapy was coming at 11:30 to see him so that was a good thing. When the someone arrived she introduced herself as being from Occupational Therapy too. I guess she hadn't got the memo from the self-important system bimbo who in no uncertain terms told me that the correct terminology was Physical Therapy.

As it turned out this morning's "healthcare professional" was there to see if father could get a free folding wheelchair from the government. Of course she disguised her visit as an assessment and pretended that she was there to measure him. Since he simply doesn't fit in those chairs and since he already has one of them that he doesn't use I told her to save her time. That let her segue into shifting responsibility for this over to yet another person. I don't know what the professional to patient ratio is in Saskatchewan but if the government took her $70,000++ salary plus whatever else it costs to keep her in stylish pantsuits they could give away a lot of wheelchairs to whoever happened to ask for one. I for one wouldn't miss her, no matter how cheerful and pleasant she may have been.

On a more positive front we followed father from his room to the patio encouraging him to move the wheelchair himself. I also talked to Natasha about asking her staff to be less helpful. Father is very good at getting himself out into the hallway and then conning somebody into pushing his chair to wherever he wants to go but that doesn't get him any exercise. And it has allowed him to go two years without really learning how to run the chair.