Another day, another step on the road to recovery and a joyous experience of the NHS. Picked up by an ambulance crew which gave me scenic views of Gloucestershire on a blue sky day – a rare glimpse of real life for me.
First my left leg cast is drilled and pried off with vigour. Your brain says that the whirring black and decker drill blade will sink into skin and bone…but amazingly it doesn’t. A rather battered and bedraggled leg and ankle emerges, though the nurse removes dressings and proclaims all looks good. Then a black “ski” boot is fitted – i’ll be skiing in no time she jokes…I’ll be off piste quicker than that.
Then off to x ray to be scanned all over again. They whip the new boot off within minutes. Then back to trauma department for consultation with main man who with an Irish wink and a smile took right arm sling off and pushed the joint to its limit…or my limit and then whipped the new boot off with a flourish and said, “right, lets get you on your feet…” With a doctor on each side holding into me I painfully shuffled to my feet, with weight through the right leg with encouragement to put weight through the left and try a couple of steps.
Quick, painful, very tentative steps, but my first in almost three months…