Getting old sucks! My two vehicles need some very minor work that, in my younger days, I would do without even sweating.
Now this 76 year old obese body just won’t twist and scoot. Oh, let us not discuss bending knees or getting up without something to pull against!
Not that my fine motor skills were ever that good, today I spend more time picking up things I’ve dropped or that have slipped out of my grasp, then turning wrenches.
The soonest the one mechanic I trust can work on the Buick is 6/7! He is that booked up.
The Mighty Max spare tire hoist is jammed. Without jacking it up, I can’t get under far enough to see the jamb. I don’t want to crawl under it without it being up on secure jack stands (which are in a storage shed). I can do the work at the storage lot but prefer to have someone around when I crawl under a vehicle.
I loathe asking anyone for help and have always been that way. Like any life decisions, it comes with a cost. Upside? Hones your survival skills.
Most likely, the PMC isn’t warranted. I’m ambulatory, breathing air, taking nourishment, and have beaten the actuary tables.