my friends found my mobile home for me, i was in the hospital with nowhere to live when i got out - they found an agent (a bad choice of one;but oh well....) he showed them three, and they picked the one they thought would work best, since i never saw the others, i've no idea if they made the right choice or not - the realtor was one of those tell them what they want to hear not the truth kind of guys - i had told him that my main requirement was that i needed to be able to move in, with the modifications having been made, by mid december... "no problem" lol, and i believed him, can o blame it on the brain damage ? my offer was accepted;but everything id been told about the park itself was a lie, seems that even though the seller had accepted, the park was dawdling on approval - he had said he'd spoken with them before the offer and they'd promised approval - however after the offer was accepted, now he said they wouldn't a;ppprovet without 1) meeting me in person (which meant after discharge - and that meant cocouldn'ttart mods till after then, rather than have them completed) there were a few more glitches with the park;but finally after a threatening letter from the seller's lawyer claiming they were discriminating against the handicapped, i got approved... the meeting where i signed the parks papers was frustrating, my friend had come and was sitting on my right, the realtor was on my left - at one point he leaned in front of me to ask her if i had a number he could contact me at, she got a puzzled look on her face and said "why are you asking me, not her ?" another one of those guys that think that brain damaged means... brain damaged, lol - when i went to the escrow company to sign the final papers there was another problem, there waswasn'tramp for the wheelchair... rather than relocating the signing, he got some guy from the escrow office to help him lift me and the chair up on the curb - i hated it, the lack of control on my part, respect on theres, hey it was even illegal not to have access;but at least it was done - i now owned it, even though i still cocouldn'tet inside so had never seen it..... but now i could order the lift and have the modifications made.... the realtor had arranged for the guy doing the repairs, insisted he could do them in a week, lol, ok, so im i'ming to blame the believing him on the brain damage again.... i had to guess at most of what was needed, i had them move the porch railing from on the porch to in front of it, to give me more room to manmaneuvere chair, the screen door removed so i wouldn't have to try and hold it open with my weak hand while trtryingo get inside - had the doorway bump flattened, the carpet removed, bathroom door removed and doorway widened, bedroom wall removed so wouldn't have a narrow hallway, bars in the bathrooms, new stovetop with front controls, and moving the thermostat down to where i could reach it - i arranged the movers to deliver my stuff from storage (a friend had overseen the packing for me while i was in the hospital) - the day came when i was supposed to move in... the movers ddidn'tshow - so i had to extend my stay at the hotel - after numerous calls and three days of waiting in vain, my stuff finally arrived, fitting it in so it wasn't in my way was a trick... so i was all moved in... of course the repairs still weren't finished yet.... so i not only lived alone, which id been told id never be able to do.... i did it with both repair people under foot (or wheel) and no heat... for 2 weeks in january, oh well, cant have everything, lol - next time: adapting to living alone post stroke, in a new place