My out-of-date nursing skills are no longer needed. She-who-has-been-mended is tearing up the tarmac on the road to recovery. Her physioterrorist is amazed at her progress and they are teamed up in a game of “let’s-see-exactly-how-much-we-can-improve-this-supposedly-non-improvable-nerve-damaged-leg”.
My skills at housework (negligible), laundry (adequate), childcare (so-so … the grandchild is a pre-teen, it’s not easy!), taxi driver (awesome), nagging mother (extremely awesome) and cooking (even more extremely awesome), remain in demand.
So, with the patient, the above described ex-nurse and the sometimes sulky pre-teen all feeling like the walls are closing in, my regular reader will be totally gob-smacked to learn … I Have A Plan and what’s more The Plan Will Be Implemented.
It’s called the Half-way Plan (because K’s halfway through the post op recovery period) ; we are all, including LWD, going camping in the New Forest for a couple of days/nights in R0X1! The mended-one insists she is able to get up the steps into my bed (I’ll be in the bed that necessitates use of a ladder, she’s not that limber yet) and The Smart Pre-teen gets a brand new tent (well he has to have somewhere to go if he has a strop, and at least he won’t be able to slam the door!).
Blooming spring
