In Which We Do Not Have The Best Day Ever

Connor had a seizure this morning that needed oxygen, and he slept through the car ride to school.  He perked up once we got there though, and apparently his school day went all right.  He's out for the count right now, so we'll see how he's feeling in the morning. 

It was a glorious day today so after Connor and I took a nice walk around the neighborhood, which both of us enjoyed.  It was a much needed pick-me-up after some of the other things that happened today.  I called the ticket office to try to buy us tickets to a children's program that will be put on by the Seattle Symphony in a few weeks only to be told that even though the performances weren't sold out and the wheelchair seating (or rather seat, as apparently they only have one in the hall where the concert is to take place) was free, all of the seats around it were sold.  So we won't be attending the program, which is a shame as I think Connor would really have enjoyed it.

So a word of advice to places of entertainment: if you are only going to have one wheelchair accessible seat in your venue, please make sure you don't sell the seat next to the wheelchair space until you've sold the rest of your tickets.  It's kind of a jerk move.  Or conversely, if you are reserving seats in a theater and there are plenty that are open, please don't take the seat next to the wheelchair accessible space unless you will be with someone in a wheelchair.  While there are no doubt some people who enjoy attending concerts by themselves, I'd be willing to bet that most  attend this sort of thing with at least one other person, like a spouse, parent, blind date, etc.  It would be nice if the people in wheelchairs could sit with that date during the concert-- especially if the rest of the theater is half empty. 

The weirdest thing is, I went and looked at the seating chart diagrams of the venue online and it clearly outlined multiple wheelchair seating areas and designated wheelchair companion areas.  So I don't know if that's changed, they're only using part of the venue, most of those are reserved for season ticket holders, or the guy just didn't know what he was talking about.  But yeah, no concert for us, and it didn't particularly make me want to go see anything else there in the future either.

Oh well.

Anyway, so after that whole debacle our nursing supervisor came for her monthly check-in with us and let us know that our insurance company has apparently decided that Connor isn't medically involved enough to need night nursing.  They are currently choosing to deny our referral renewal, which means that unless we're able to convince them otherwise all of our nursing care will stop at the end of next week.  Fabulous.  Hopefully this is just a fluke and we'll be able to make them see reason, because we need to lose night nursing about as much as I need a hole in the head.  Our nursing supervisor is going to go to bat for us, and I'll be giving our doctor's office a call tomorrow too to let them know the situation.  Whee.

So yeah, we took a walk, and then we went to the bookstore and the coffee shop, and then I came home put Connor to bed and stuffed my face full of chocolate cake.  So the day was somewhat redeemed.  Hopefully tomorrow will go a little more smoothly!

~Jess

EDIT: In a genuinely classy move, a representative of the Seattle Symphony e-mailed me today to offer personal help booking our tickets-- which will now be complimentary.  That's pretty awesome.  Looks like Connor will be hearing some great music after all!