...we both visit the surgery

Yesterday we had a two hour wait at the surgery. However this time it wasn’t for me, it was for the person we shall just refer to as Divot Head, who not believing when I said he needed two hands to push wheelchair – needed to prove it to himself by tipping the chair and falling under it. I had little more than my pride (the little that is left) bumped as I led there legs in air looking at the sky. Divot meantime managed to give himself little-boy knee grazes and a nasty chop in one of his fingers. As I laid there looking at the sky a number of things went through my mind. ‘Poor Ian’ was not one of them.

So it was with slight satisfaction that Ian had to drop his pants in front of the nice nurse and she rammed his backside with a needle. I also felt a tad smug at his whimpering, and indeed his scream as she came at him with a needle – and he had not even been jabbed at this point. He now looks slightly ridiculous with a bandage round the top third of his finger. I think the frosty silence – and the fact that he was threatened with loosing some of his vital and not so vital appendages should he ever come close to me when I’m in the wheelchair again might have made my feelings perfectly clear.

I felt a little embarrassed as we went to the surgery yesterday – not just because of the above, but also because my bandage was such a state; kittens and general wear and tear over what had become a week between changes had taken it’s toll. The nurse always sends me out looking neat and tidy with the top of the bandage neatly folded, and I return with some unravelling mass looking like something that has been found in an Egyptian tomb. The end of the plaster is decomposing a little too - but I'm not too worried as I am at the hospital tomorrow.

The nurse normally gives my foot a little wipe too, however because it was a week since my last visit it had gone rather crusty. A bit like what is left in the bottom of a Greggs Cheese and Onion Pasty bag after the pasty has crumbled whilst eating. Uuuuuuuugh. Embarrassingly large flakes of skin fell off in a heap. Poor nurse. I think that it was more apparent as the swelling has gone down quite dramatically and this made the flaking worse.

I am getting quite good at hopping down the stairs from the workshop. Going up is crawling, but going down is getting easier. The trick I found is have my bad leg forward rather than back and to hop on the count of three – not let momentum step in. To start of with I had my bad leg behind me which didn’t give me my balance easily after each hop.

I was a little surprised at the thunder and lightening we had again on Saturday, I think as a weather forecasting tool seaweed is probably more effective than my ankle. It cleared the air and it is not has hot as it has been.

Tibs and Fibs are settling in well, they spend quite a lot of time playing and the rest sleeping. Last night they were sat on the back of the chair and both hitting Ian on his head. And they say you can’t train them……