And So We Wait

When you're calling a business that you're already angry with, the last thing you want to have happen is for that businesses' phone to ring eleven times before it's answered but having it happen to us would be par for the course in our little wheelchair delivery adventure.

The young lady who answered wasn't what I'd call pleasant but she was adequate. B told her why he was calling and she put him on hold for three or four minutes while she found out why the delivery wasn't made. When she returned she did say she was "really, really sorry" but the reason why they didn't keep the appointment yesterday was because the wrong wheelchair was delivered. How's that for a I'm-not-a-bit-surprised moment? No word as to whether the wrong wheelchair was ordered or was merely delivered but I'm betting on the former. As for an explanation as to why the company didn't call us yesterday to let us know that they wouldn't be keeping the appointment, one wasn't offered and B, ever one to not rock the boat, didn't ask. He did, however, ask when delivery of the correct wheelchair could be expected and our telephone answering friend, evidently unable to anticipate a question that would surely be asked by a customer, didn't know so it was back on hold with us until she could find out. She told us it would likely be sometime next week and they'd call us with another delivery date.

The entire experience wasn't in the least a fulfilling one. While I didn't want B to scream and curse at the woman or even raise his voice, I did expect him to at least inquire as to why they didn't call us yesterday to say that the wheelchair wouldn't be delivered and that they had mightily inconvenienced us. B merely replied that: A. none of it was likely her fault and B: she did say she was "really, really sorry". As far as I was concerned she became one of the guilty when it took her eleven rings to answer a business phone.

We're going to give them yet one more chance to make this right by us - in other words, before we start calling for the lopping off of heads, B wants possession of the correct wheelchair. I personally believe that getting the manager of this joint involved (it's a locally owned business I believe and one that B has been doing business with for nearly 20 years and until now they'd always been very reliable) can begin now but B sees it differently and why he does is understandable. First, he's German. Germans are used to crappy customer service. I personally believe that excellent customer service freaks them out a little bit and they don't want too much of it. Second, B is not only German, he's from the former East Germany where rocking the boat before you have what you want in hand is definitely a bad idea. Back then if you bitched too much, too early then whoops! That little thing you've had your heart set on? Golly gee, we're not going to be able to get it for you. Sorry! Times have changed and so have the attitudes on boat rocking but once you've grown up with learning to hold your mouth just right to get what you need, it's a hard habit to break.

Once we've gotten B's wheelchair then that's when we'll sit down and write a letter to the management of the medical supply company and let them know exactly what our experience has been. This latest thing? While it made us crazy furious yesterday and can in no way be considered the proper way to treat a customer, it's peanuts compared to the previous months. Yesterday was a lot of the-right-hand-doesn't-know-what-the-left-hand-is-doing. Mistakes like that get made at every business and for us it was simply the simply the last straw. What really needs to be addressed is Herr Julius. That man should never be allowed to handle customers again. He would never return our calls, wouldn't return the calls of the insurance company and he told us out-and-out lies. Said he'd done things he hadn't. Said the insurance company had done things they hadn't. Misled and ignored us and in general made his company look like it's being run by Fred and Barney. That's whose ass I want in a sling. That's whose ass needs to be taking up space in an unemployment line.

By the way - did I mention that two weeks ago a car cut me off in traffic? Nearly took off my bumper? A company car from Vitalzentrum Strehlow.

Yeah. I wasn't surprised either.

Atomic Fury

I'm warning you right now. I am in a seething rage. If you don't want to read a lot of profanity, you should c'mon back another day when I'm not ready to bite ten-penny nails in half.

Last week the medical supply company called to say that B's new wheelchair would be delivered today between noon and 3pm. Yesterday morning they called again to say they needed to change the time and the wheelchair would be delivered between 2pm and 5pm.

As I write this sentence it's 5:53pm and that fucking wheelchair isn't here yet. We've called the medical supply company and hooray! they seem to do one thing correctly! When 5pm rolls around they close their doors and put the recording on their phones that say they've gone home after a long, hard day of being inept!

I wish I could describe how fucking pissed I am but chances are you've been just as pissed at one time or another. I really thought we'd come to the end of the jumping through hoops it evidently requires to get a wheelchair but no - there seems to be something else we've got to do before these turds stick that fraking wheelchair on a van and bring it to our flat. And heaven forbid these turds call us and say "You know, we just can't make that delivery date. Can we reschedule?". That's all it would have taken. Now I simply don't give a shit what their excuse is because at this point the only good reason for not delivering the wheelchair today and not calling to say that they're not showing up would be that the whole damn place burned down.

I simply can't believe that any one company can be so incredibly shitty. I can't believe that they can get away, over and over, with treating us like a pile of crap. Do you know when this nightmare started? August 7, 2008. That's whem Mr. Medical Supply showed up for his first appointment with B so they could discuss what sort of wheelchair he needs. Mr. Medical didn't call us back for ages so after us contacting him again to ask what sort of wheelchairs he had to offer that would fit B, he returned for an appointment with us on September 17, 2008. We had to get a prescription from our doctor and that prescription was dated September 30, 2008 and I mailed it to the medical supply company that same day. We didn't hear back from Mr. Medical Supply - oh fuck it...his name is Herr Julius. I'm sick of hiding his identity. Anyway, Herr Julius didn't call us back to give us any information so B called him on February 9, 2009 to find out if the insurance company had approved the wheelchair B had picked out. As of February 27, 2009 there was still no progress (and as we found out, no file for this case with the insurance company) and it wasn't until we called the insurance company ourselves that we started to get any action. Well, you already know this since I've flogged the hell out of this topic on this blog over the last few weeks. The point is, I think 7 1/2 months of shit-filled customer service is a little too much.

I think what makes me the angriest is that this company gets away with this bullshit. They're dicking around a handicapped man and you know why? Because they can! Because they're really the only game in town if B needs new batteries for his electric wheelchair or needs a new bed. If something has to be maintained, replaced or repaired, we have to call these assholes and be at their mercy and they know it. They don't come right out as say "Fuck you, folks!" but that's exactly what their attitude says.

So Vitalzentrum Strehlow in Magdeburg and Herr Julius and the lady who makes shitty delivery appointments and you delivery guys who didn't show up today I'm not going to give you a "fuck you!" with my attitude. I'm going to say it plainly. Fuck you. Fuck you and your inepitude and your ass sucking customer service and your generally shitty attitude. Fuck you for treating my husband like he's nothing - like he should be grateful to be at your mercy. Fuck you for acting like we should just stand by and beg for any crumbs you may throw us. And God forbid you ever become sick or disabled. God forbid you or someone you love ever has an accident and becomes dependent on people who treat you like you're nothing but a bother. God forbid that anyone, anyone, ever treats you or someone you love with even a fraction of the disinterest and negligence that we've been shown by you.

And you had better hope to fuck that karma is nothing but bullshit.

Gray Day

B's not feeling well again. I hate it for him because when he's feeling awful there's not a lot I can do to relieve it.

It all just serves to remind me that he's disabled and his physiology is quite different than an able bodied person. The muscles in his body are slack and weak and don't respond like they should. He's going to age faster than if he were able bodied and while most of the time I don't dwell on it, I still think of it and it makes me sad.

I try not to think too far ahead and borrow trouble but I know that reality is going to begin snapping at our heels one day.

Tomorrow will be better.

Best Two Out of Three

B needs a new push wheelchair. He's got one but it's ancient. I've lived here for nearly eleven years and it had a couple years age on it when I moved here. And B hates it. He's very tall - nearly 6'4" and there's an extended part on the back to make it taller. Unfortunately it also digs into his shoulder blades and he can't sit in the chair for more than a half hour.

Most of the time he doesn't use a push chair - he's got a big electric monstrosity but since it's a big electric monstrosity it doesn't go into tight places with any ease so having a smaller push chair for those times would be nice.

A guy from the medical supply place came by to talk with us and measure B and find out what he needs in a push chair. And there was a very nice one - it's all padded nicely and it would fit his long frame and there's a headrest for him (B's neck muscles are very weak and he has a hard time holding his head upright without support) and it looked very good until the guy told us it's not collapsible. Well crap. It's a nice chair but it would take up a lot of room in our small apartment if I can't collapse it. It may fit in our basement storage area but that's not likely. My basement storage isn't full but putting the wheelchair in it would make it very full and leave me no other storage.

There was another chair that B could fit in but it's not much different than what he's got now which rather defeats the purpose. The guy left and said he'd do more research in his office to see if anything else that would suit would be available and he'd give us a call. In the meantime we have to discuss whether he would even use this chair enough to offset its inconvenient storage or if we could even come up with a suitable storage area. And if he probably wouldn't use it all that much, why go to all the trouble of making place for it? Then again, if it were very comfortable and easy to use then perhaps he'd use it more and it would make the storage problem worthwhile.

Unfortunately if you have a handicapped loved one who needs special equipment you're not always left with a lot of choices. Equipment for use by the handicapped is a specialized thing. It's geared towards a group with not all that many people in it so it doesn't make good business sense to make a huge variety of things that only a small population will use. And if you've got a double concern like B does - quadriplegic and very tall - you've got even less choices.

We'll talk about it over the weekend and see if we can come up with a solution to the storage problem or just take the chance that the other wheelchair that's collapsible won't be such a literal pain in the neck to use. When all is said and done we may just have to employ our emergency decision making system: flipping a coin. We'll decide on which wheelchair my husband will use by relying on the same method of making up our minds that we use when we can't decide whether to order Chinese or Italian food for delivery.