I was watching a show the other day where three different couples had redesigned a part of their homes and invited designers in to decide which couple would get the biggest bang of a return from their design dollars. I sometimes like to watch design shows, but I tend to lean toward the ones where a couple is given $20.00 and pointed to a flea market to see what magic they can create with a huge roll of vintage duct tape.
In the show I was watching the other day, each couple owned homes worth millions of dollars. They had torn out perfectly lovely kitchens and bathrooms in order to recreate the space of their dreams.
Seriously. It’s like they would start on one end of the house, redesign to the other side and then begin the entire process again.
You live in a multi-million dollar home and you are going to pout because the stripes on your zebra patterned marble aren’t running in the right direction.
I’m pretty sure that what these couples hucked into the landfill in the name of good taste added up to far more than the worth of my entire home.
It was right about the time one of the couples began hyperventilating over one decorator not being too fond over the zillion dollar flooring in that couples kitchen, that I finally found the channel changer and zapped myself away from what was left of that hour of crazy.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always had an eye for name brand, high quality and top of the market.
(Although I’ll forever pass on the zebra stripe, thank you very much.)
It’s just that my priorities have changed.
My dreams now tend to center on the hope of being able to watch a little boy grow into a man.
I took a huge chance the other day. Remember when I told you about the oxygen concentrator we’ve been saving for. The new one for Parker so that the old one could go to my parent’s house and we could start taking Parker over there so my Mom could teach him once a week? Get the kid out into the world more often?
I ordered it. *gulp*
I’m only a few hundred dollars short of what it will cost. And if in the weeks it takes to come in I haven’t been able to save up the rest, well, I can let my DME know and my DME will just put it into the rotation of all the other oxygen concentrators. Or they’ve even offered to hold it for me for a few extra weeks.
It’s not something I’d usually do. These days either we have the cash in hand or we do without. But I did it anyway.
It’s made me wonder if I’m any different than the couples who weren’t satisfied with the mulit-million dollar homes that the rest of us can only dream about.
Except with me it isn’t homes, it’s very expensive medical equipment.
In other news, I think I’ve finally figured out the drama of Parker’s wheelchair. We we had it adjusted to reflect Parker’s growth, the back T-Pad no longer was wide enough. The manufacturer doesn’t make wider T-Pads. No joke. I took the old cushions to an automotive upholstery place to see if they could make new back and seat cushions. They could. But for a price that I simply refused to pay. A price that was in the ball park of what a brand new wheelchair would have cost.
The manufacturer would have made us a special order cushion set. All I would have to do is turn my first grandchild over to them.
I could push for a new wheel chair, but really, this one still works great. It just needs new back and seat cushions.
You can’t just walk into JoAnn’s and find the type of cushion used in a wheel chair. It has to be a cushion rated high enough to withstand all 40 of Parker’s pounds, plus a few for future growth.
Finally, a sweet friend of mine decided to take on the challenge. She loves to sew. She loves a challenge. And her prices won’t require me to take another mortgage out on my home.
Truthfully, that’s more of who I am. I love the creativity of making things work. From trash picked hand painted furniture, to wheel chair cushions rigged by a friend.
Too bad that same sort of do it yourself spirit bails on me when it comes to oxygen concentrators, huh?