How Life is not a Toaster Oven
I get really annoyed when I have to replace my toaster oven. I end up with warm toast, or burnt toast, or toast toasted only on one side and I need to start over after about two years.
Mostly I pay my $40 every couple of years and get over it. It should work longer but it doesn’t and it won’t break the bank to replace. If I can’t get to the store, I just don’t eat toast, or I toast it on the stove.
A lift, on the other hand, needs to work.
Or else I end up carrying Aidan down the stairs, grateful that he can walk up them.
Or else his wheelchair will need to be lifted off the lift, grateful that it stopped only six inches off the ground.
Or else Garreth will need to spend his precious time figuring out what part needs to be replaced. And my sweet, gentle man will need to get his business face on and ask the hard question as to why we have to replace a piece we replaced under a year ago. This isn’t a toaster oven. It should be built to last.
These are the moments we don’t have a plan B.
We have a plan if we get locked out of the house, or if Aidan has a bad seizure, or if we can’t pick up Liam at school. All kinds of back up plans.
But there’s really no plan for Aidan to lose this essential piece of his mobility.
Aidan’s lift broke with a loud crack on monday. Garreth was home and we were only a few inches off the ground. I hopped off the lift and Garreth handed Aidan to me. I’ve played the what ifs over and over in my head.
What if Garreth wasn’t home? I can’t lift Aidan alone.
What if we were stuck midway and could get Aidan down somehow but not his chair? He’s not mobile without it.
What if what if what if…
I’ll just end up down a rabbit hole if I try to come up with all of those Plan Bs.
But this is life and truth in Disability World….when things go wrong, they can have a crushing impact.
For now I’m choosing to be grateful that we have the resources to handle this.