Happy new year folks!
Rest and rehab is going well. Was flitting between the parents and home for Christmas. My parents are still alive which is a compliment both to myself and the NHS for the strength of morphine they sent me there with. The horrified look on my Mum’s face as my Aunty painted my toes was enough of a happy to get me through my time there.
On a serious note, I do appreciate everything they did for me. My Dad bought 9 cases of Lucozade because I drank one or two bottles of it. (They were probably on offer, buy 5 get 4 free or something knowing Dad). I left pretty soon after the shopping though so they will probably stay there for ages now.
Mum burst in the room telling me she spent over three hundred quid on food on champagne. I should say “extra” food as she had already catered for Christmas dinner. Normally I do like to be lowered into my food and to dig myself out, loads of Christmas dinner… this year I was full after mash and carrots. Again, I think they can survive. They are used to stock piling food, the Christmas pudding had been kept for 2 years before it was eaten this year. I say eaten, Dad wolfed it down and everyone else looked at it with the contempt of vegetarians at a sausage factory.
I still cannot drink. The champagne and quality JD I have passed up during this festive season is enough to inspire me to try to make a quicker recovery than is expected. I want my cast off pretty soon, bed rest is boring. Sometimes I do get a change of scenery and sit on the sofa instead of my bed… and I just started Bones DVD’s from Series 1. I know, Hollywood lifestyle or what?!
At times I have felt anti social stuck in my room and frustrated because I can’t do more, so I push myself to do more every day. Social Services rang today to see if I was in need of a home visit and possibly “help” in my home environment, I sent them away with a flea in their ear. Not really a flea though, because that would be un-hygienic of me (and also would prompt another phone call from some agency or other).
I’m off to mourn the end of my walking career.
In a bit