Weekends at The Wolfson

Weekends at The Wolfson are hard, part of the rehabilitation process envolves patients being encouraged to go home where possible. We have 13 very steep stairs in our little terrace house. To me they are Everest. So here I stayed. Saturday saw us going to our dear friends Bert and Heidi's for a BBQ (oh, the joys of a house with a downstairs loo!) The first of the year for me as I have missed the early warm weather by my prolonged stay with the NHS. A wonderful sea bass and the most enormous prawns were the dish of the day. It is very strange going to places that I know so well from before the operation, places that I walked into without a thought that now I go back to in a wheelchair.I used to take it for granted that I could nip into the other room to see Sami playing, or pop into the garden to look at the BBQ. This is a long road to recovery and it starts with a stagger across the kitchen on a zimmer.
This morning I though I had an easy start to the week, with nothing till 11.15 am.I was enjoying the only decent meal of the day - even the NHS can cook toast,when a physio shattered my peace by telling me that my hydro therapy session had been missed off the time table and could I get there quickly. I cant to anything quickly! 20 minutes later and in I went.This week was easier than my last session when I got very upset that I could no longer swim, I can't walk, my left leg does not work, why did it come as a shock?!
Then it was gym exercises. Hard work with legs like lead from the pool but an improvement from last week.....this was closely followed by cant throw, cant catch group - (The PC term is Upper Limb group). We all sat around not throwing or catching very well, with the exception of one elderly chap who could not grasp that the whole point of the excercise was to use your bad limb, his left one worked perfectly well so why couldn't he use it?
The day was wrapped up by more physio. Still trying to move my ankle. Sadly at the moment everytime I try to move it, all the other muscles in my body seem to tense and strain....but my foot stays flat on the floor. I have nick named my foot the pork chop, this is what it feels like. Flat, immobile, pink and fleshy.
Can't bear to join the lines of wheelchairs in front of the tv in the lounge. Thank goodness for portable DVD players.
Shattered again but have to stay awake until the 10pm for the drug run.