#PhotaYourMota for @MoneySupermktJuly 9, 2013
As you all know Elizabeth was diagnosed with leukemia in August last year. I had to stop working and we couldn’t afford to run our car. It was cheaper to use taxi’s to the hospital than it was to tax, insure and fuel the car.
Eventually we made the decision that with the tax disc needing renewing we couldn’t struggle any longer and we said goodbye. It was hard living without a car and our Christmas trip to Butlins was a nightmare as we had to go on coaches and trains to get there.
A car is really important when you have a disabled child and so when we were given our disability living allowance we decided to get a mobility car. We sacrifice part of our benefits every month and in return we have an amazing car. It is taxed, moted insured, it gets serviced, has breakdown cover and when we managed to chip the windscreen within a few months of having it they came and fixed it. Our mobility car is a blessing. We can take Elizabeth on trips out, we can go on holiday, I can get her to school on the days that her ankles are hurting her. I truly don’t know what I would do without our car.
Its not posh or fancy, its not a fancy colour, its not particularly fast but it is exactly what we need.
Waking up on a Thursday morning to find that your back garden has been broken into is never a good way to start the day. The person who had done it had not only taken my bike but the kids trailer and their scooters too.
I started getting the girls out of bed ready for school and as I walked near Elizabeth I could feel the heat radiating off her. No school for her today then. A quick temperature check and it beeps 39.1, calpol is administered and we jump in the car and off to the hospital we go.
Reporting the break in as I am driving to the hospital, the girls sit quietly in the back. I have enough stuff to hopefully keep them occupied for the day including my laptop with dvds. We arrive at the hospital and park the car in the normal spot. The girls start bickering about who is getting out first, what they want for breakfast, what film they want to watch first, the police lady on the phone is asking stupid questions about the person who broke in. Do I know who it was? What clothes were they wearing? I mean really if I knew that I would have phoned you at the time. I was sleeping. I didn’t hear a thing let alone see anything.
I get out of the car and sort out the disabled pushchair, grab the ten million bags I seem to have accumulated and we head into the hospital, one girl crying, one still arguing. Fast forward 8 hours. Elizabeth has been admitted for the next 48 hours. Standard protocol. I decide to take Alison home and pack our overnight bags but where are my keys. I search my bag. I search outpatients. I search the day unit. I ask all the nurses. Then it dawns on me. The last time I saw my keys they were in the ignition of my car. I left them in there as I was still speaking to the police lady on speaker phone through the car stereo. . .
…. my car has been sat unlocked with the keys in the ignition for eight hours.
I run to a window overlooking the car park and there it is. Exactly where I left it. I race outside and see this.