Half Term Break!
“Expect the unexpected!”
I may have started my previous blog with this statement but it’s fast becoming my mantra as I truly never cease to be amazed by these three words!
The journey that Bessy has taken me on over the past few years has been one of many twists’n’ turns, ups’n’downs and highs’n’lows (puns, very much intended!). I am very lucky to say that most of my experiences have been positive, but it wouldn’t be real life if a few negatives didn’t make an appearance. As much as I wish this wasn’t the case, there is no doubt that the value of the positives soar when a negative challenge is met head on… and overcome!
This latest challenge came right out of the blue! It was a lazy Sunday. The joy of no alarm call. That cheeky extra cup of coffee. A few pages of a novel. There was a bit of activity as the Bessy Bus got a wash with the new long handled mop thing that Norman gave me and then the suggestion of a walk came up. Enthusiastically, we set off to retrace the steps of one of our lockdown trails. It was a mild afternoon and we were strolling along, amazed at how different our route appeared in early Autumn, compared to the winter scenes of lockdown. There was somebody sitting on “our” bench down by the river, so we just carried on, commenting on how lush the greenery was and how dense and dark the route had become. As we veered in single file out of the way of an oncoming couple with standard Covid etiquette, I unwittingly stepped on a loose stone which threw me off balance! I tried to right myself but instead dove across the ground as if I was scoring THE try of the match! My face hit the ground, grazing me to a halt, my knee jarred as something dug into it and then … my wrist! A wave of pain like nothing I’d felt before erupted and overwhelmed my whole being. I waited for it to subside but instead it maintained its intensity, whilst stealing my words, my thoughts and my breath!
In that split second, my life for the next few months was to completely change course. My favourite sunnies, now in bits were binned in the nearest receptacle. The little leaf that caught a drip of blood from my head, curled under the extra weight and its autumnal colourings took on another tone of red. As to my wrist, it had never looked, or felt like that before!
The mile or so stagger home must have been quite a sight! Norman protectively escorting me as I cradled my soon to be diagnosed broken wrist and lowered my scraped and bruised face to avoid the gaze of oncoming walkers.
Eventually we made it. An ice pack was found and I was in the car en route to A&E!
The NHS truly is a wonderful thing. I was X-rayed, cleaned up and my arm was put in plaster. Two days later the wrist was realigned and put into a lighter weight plaster. Just a few days after that, the follow up X-ray confirmed surgery was necessary in light of my profession.
I was informed there would probably be a wait of a week or two for the surgery but was asked if a last minute appointment would be acceptable should it arise. I agreed to everything, very gratefully.
Three days later, as I scoffed the last bites of N’s homemade burger & wedges, my mobile rang. It was 8:30pm. It was the hospital!
At 7am the next morning, I settled into a comfy pink chair with matching footstool by the window in the Day Surgery department. I was a bit anxious so I pulled out my phone and tried to distract myself by rearranging my teaching schedule and catching up on some admin. The waiting room TV was airing episodes of “George & Mildred,” which emitted cosy childhood memories of family Saturday evenings. I hid in the comfort of these memories, periodically surfacing when different members of the hospital staff in varying uniforms, calmly explained various aspects of the procedure, warned me of the unlikely dangers and smiled gently as I agreed to something that had the word “death” half way through its list of possible side effects. It was all rather surreal but somehow I felt a little reassured when I saw the other patients in the busy waiting room obviously having similar têtes-à-têtes!
A few hours later and I was changing into my op outfit! An interesting ensemble of gauze underwear, pressure socks, gown and hat. The gown in particular was a challenge. Try tying that at the back with one hand! The lovely nurse came to the rescue, so modesty, if not dignity, could be saved! I had my own furry slippers on, so all was well.
A hurl on the trolley with a very chatty guitar playing member of the surgery team distracted me to a perfection. I gazed at the monitor, intrigued by the nerve blocker procedure. I was not so distracted as to be unaware of the cannula being attached by another member of the team but as I took the requested two deep breaths of oxygen, the conversation about favourite bass players came to an abrupt halt!
BOOM! I was out! No time to think or worry about anything! Brilliant!
I opened my eyes and I was in the recovery ward. A twinge from beneath the fresh cast immediately reminded me of my whereabouts. The super attentive nurse seemed to appear from nowhere and instantly offered and administered some pain relief, as the weird sensation of the nerve blocker was wearing off enough to warrant some meds.
Over the next few hours I got to see first hand just how strained and pushed the NHS is. Yet despite each ward team having to fight to be able to do their job, the staff are incredibly caring and patient, working together to make things happen against very difficult odds. The fact I was 4 hours delayed in getting to the day ward didn’t really register with me. I couldn’t believe how grateful the staff were for my patience, as they did everything they possibly could, somewhat creatively at times, to use the time efficiently and get me through the various compulsory tasks so I could be discharged and get home ASAP!
Just 10 days later, the cast was removed. I was both relieved and terrified in equal measures. Gentle movement over the next few weeks should see me ready for the next stage of recovery. The pain keeps me in check but I so miss not being able to play and am willing the weeks and healing to hurry. Initially it was a feeling of panic but now as Bessy keeps watch on me with these intense, big eyes as she stands tall and silent on her stand, I know everything is going to be alright…
You see, I received this fabulous photo the morning after “the fall” from our wonderful friends, Pam & Keith. Completely unaware of my predicament, they had felt compelled to make a wee diversion from their holiday travel itinerary. What are the chances? …
