Hiatus status post from Whitt

We’ve really done a good job of buggering up the schedule between us. First Phillips did something very nasty to a tendon (more about which when she returns from Paradise, her current residence).Paradise

I’m in what I now understand is called a ‘space boot’. A genius thing that many footballers are well acquainted with, as I understand what I have is a footballing injury. Cue lots of jokes about Euro-football stuff that I really don’t care to engage with.

Diagnosis: broken 5th metatarsal, damaged ankle ligaments and a sodding great haematoma  on the sole of my foot. Strangely it’s haematoma that has caused the most pain so far. Treatment: rest, elevation, 5/6 weeks of space boot, then gradual rehab. i.e. not the planned walk round the West Norfolk coastline. Cause: these bastards. Note no banister.IMG_8291

Not sure how many I fell down, it was all a bit of a blur, suffice to say I was lucky that those doors were open as I barrelled through them and then had to be scraped up from the floor and off to A&E. The last four weeks have been pretty dire, I’m not used to not being able to do stuff, like swim in the sea every morning, walk, drive, dig the garden or be positive. But the two godsends have been my kind and caring friends, and my Mother’s mobility scooter. And no, I don’t care that I look like a granny, I’ve been able to get the dogs out and about and even managed to get to the polling station.

The plan was to have reached Kings Lynn round about now, so we may have to consider an Autumn walking block to catch up on lost time, and help the general rehab. In the meantime Phillips is lying in the sun, in what appears to be the most beautiful place in Normandy, and I’m discovering that spending your day off weeding the paving in a space boot is foolish. Ants love paving slabs and get very cross when you remove the grass sandwiched between them. Then they mount an attack on the thing they see as responsible, or perhaps an alternative residence. The space boot. I’d really rather be in France.

I’ve been keeping a photo diary of my escapades, although we didn’t get one of the buggy stuck in the sand when I over estimated it’s off-road capabilities.

 

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