How difficult are crutches?

Bloomin’ difficult let me tell you! All that feeding up in hospital has also given me a few extra pounds to carry around with me – great.

The plans now I am home are for regular visits to the health centre here in the village. This means the indignity of rolling around in the back of the transit as I cannot get into the front cab. I am unceremoniously dumped outside the health centre, where I hop pathetically with the crutches into the waiting room, where people move out of the way for me – probably thinking I am about to collapse, which quite frankly after a few yards on the crutches is a feeling I often have!

We have to go and buy our injections, so Ian was sent off up to the chemist and the local nurse will inject me when I go there at mid day. I hate that injection. My stomach is like a pin cushion!

It was great coming home, all the dogs were excited - including Bob who was desperate to get into the bedroom. We let him in and in he bounded, quick sniff for his Baby, then out he dashed without even a glance in my direction. Hmmmm.

I’ve been researching diets – I am quite a believer in diet supporting health and hope that by increasing my calcium consumption I might hasten the mending of the bones. I nearly combined fainting with collapsing in hysteria when I read this on a website that came top of a Google search. It said that people suffering from broken bones should be 'bled'. Luckily before I suffered any long term mental damage and pathelogical fear of the medical profession I checked the website and I think that 'american revolution' probably explained all.....