Seven and a half weeks in.

Not a pretty sight.

Thanks to my lovely daughter Jo it soon looked like...

this.

All this was in order not to frighten the plaster room staff who would have to take the plasters off the next day. I had been getting increasingly excited and impatient and found it difficult to sleep that night.

Fortunately Beth had been with friends for a sleepover so for the last couple of days before the plaster came off she was occupied. That was a very good thing. I was determined that the plasters would stay off and had the rest of the day planned, a bath(ahhhhhhh), a short walk around the garden where I haven't been for seven and a half weeks and where I would usually spend a good part of any sunny day,and a bottle of champagne. I couldn't wait.

On the way to the plaster room ...

and waiting.

This is not fun but she was quick and efficient and we had a nice chat about photography and how we missed the chemicals and swishing and splashing involved in using film.

This is much gentler and I was now minutes away from freedom.

Here goes the other one.

Then to x-ray ...

and waiting.

Then back to fracture clinic and more waiting, so a very extravagant overpriced treat was in order for my patient helper.

Meet Fred.

Not to long a wait for the registrar who told me that I was to be non weight bearing for another four weeks!!!!!!!!

Why didn't they tell me that when I queried the plasters coming off in four weeks instead of just saying oh well different hospitals have different routines. Typical NHS, tell the patient nothing. So bang goes my lovely dream of an afternoon. I don't want to walk before my body is healed but knowing I was going to be stuck downstairs and in a wheelchair for eight rather than four weeks would have made a real difference to how we tackled the problems it presented. And knowing that I wouldn't be walking for three months would have prevented the completely unnecessary disappointment we felt especially for Beth whose whole world has been turned upside down by this. The lack of consideration for the patients experience makes an institution full of lovely people doing their best to help totally inhumane in many ways.  

Anyway rant over, next someone came and fitted me with a brace (photos to follow) and then more waiting for the 'Physioterrorist', (his term)

She was lovely though and assessed my movement and gave me exercises and promised to book local physio for the day after my next appointment, (presumably for more x-rays but who knows).

But when she brought my appointment it was for five weeks and on the very day that Jo had booked a spa treat for us both to celebrate my ordeal being over, if only!

Then more waiting, this time for Jo who was coming to take me home as Bruce was lecturing in the afternoon, but this time it was in the restaurant having beans and chips, our hospital treat, much better.

And a bit of dsing.

And back home to reassess the next five weeks.