I look and see there's another lever so try again. This is the right one: it goes up and down, or rather it goes up. And up. Soon I am peering down unable to even put my arm in the sleeve.
I dismount and try to adjust it, make it go back down. But the chair is adamant: it will not shift.
I hover for a while hoping someone who knows will pass by but eventually give up, move the chair further along the corridor, and pull up an ordinary seat.
I slot my arm in and press the button. Nothing happens. I try again. Still nothing happens.
The nurse comes out of her room so I ask her if it's out of order. 'Is it switched on?' she says.
I look down at the plug. 'Oh no.' I switch it on and finally, at last, with my blood pressure probably now as high as the rising chair, it gets measured.
I am pleased: 115 over 60. Pretty good.
I leave quietly hoping somebody can repair the chair.
3 comments:
How frustrating at the time, but rather amusing as you tell it.
Hahahahaha, good story! It reminded me of a very popular story here in Canada called "Blood Pressure Chair" by Stuart McLean. He was a humour writer who read his stories on a long-running CBC radio variety show. The hapless protagonist of many of his stories was Dave, who was a bit of a hypochondriac with no proficiency in machinery or home repairs. Here's an audio link to Stuart McLean reading the story, if you have about 15 minutes and want to hear it:
https://beta.prx.org/stories/5347
lol, my experience was similar to yours Liz. When I eventually got the chair to the right height I was having a hot flush, so I did two readings. I can't remember what they were but it was ok.
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