Red Nail Polish

1 September 2023

At 7.30 am I heard the familiar beeping sound as Jigar expertly backed into my driveway. He loaded me into his maxi taxi and soon we were on our way to Sir Charles Gairdner Hospital.

The first stop was Admission Centre where I answered all the questions, including yes, I had removed my nail polish. I felt very naked without my usual red nail polish on, preferring people to comment on my nail polish than ask “Why are you in a wheelchair?” The nurse handed over an envelope, then I was told to take the blue lift to the Short Stay Unit on the first floor. I waited for about two hours before the ward nurse called me to ask me another set of questions. She put on my name wrist band and led me to a bed, where I got dressed in a hospital gown and caught up on my sleep.

Finally, at 1:30 pm, I was taken up to the pre-operation ward, where once again I was asked all the same questions. The specialist came and after talking to me, decided he would only inject my right shoulder this time. Previously, I had both shoulders injected. I was wheeled into the pre-operation room – more questions from the anaesthetist before he drew some blood on the second attempt. On previous procedures, they had trouble drawing blood and I had gone home with several large bruises. This was the third time I was having a Platelet-Rich Plasma Injection to help ease the pain in my shoulders.

Since Covid, operational procedures have changed. One minute I was talking to the two Anaesthetists – then the next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery ward and told everything went well. As I live alone, I was kept in overnight while they monitored my blood pressure, oxygen levels and temperature. After breakfast, my vital statistics back to normal, and feeling fine, I was allowed home, with no bruises.

I caught the bus to Mirrabooka Shopping Centre as I wanted to get my nails done. Wheeling towards Nail Art, I noticed a young girl standing outside the Audio Centre thrusting pamphlets at people as they walked past her. The sign in the window was advertising Free Ear Wax Removal for eligible pensioners – something I was interested in.

The beautician had already got my favourite red nail polish ready on the table when she saw me coming. Thirty minutes later, I now felt fully dressed with my red sparkling nails, ready to face the world, and ready to find out more about Free Ear Wax Removal.

I wheeled slowly passed the young girl, admiring my red nails. She stepped back out of my way. “Sorry” she said, implying she was in my way. I kept wheeling towards Coles Supermarket wondering why on one hand the girl saw me and acknowledged me but on the other hand she had totally ignored the fact that I was an eligible pensioner maybe with ears.

 

Although Elizabeth Edmondson PLY was born on the 1st July 1950, her life took an unexpected turn on 27th September 1951 when she contracted polio. She spent fifteen months in hospital, before returning home, to learn to walk wearing a leg brace on her right leg. Her parents treated her the same as her two sisters, and that she could do anything she wanted to do.

Elizabeth writes about her struggles and triumphs as she lives a life with a disability. She also had to overcome other people’s attitude towards her.