STILETTO – a high pointed HEEL on a woman’s shoe or a small dagger.
WHEELS – a medieval instrument of torture or a vehicle for personal mobility.
We had been to the Electric cinema in Notting Hill and whaddya know? Yet more rubbish London pavements! The wheel fork on my new and very expensive portable wheelchair was unable to cope with a HUGE pothole in the pavement! No-one's fault, just bad luck! Fabulous, spend £350 on a chair that lasts four years with no problem then spend a couple of grand and fall out on your first trip!
An ambulance came but they didn't really want to take me to hospital to be checked out - just too busy - and I was happy to agree as my hospital phobia gathers apace. The nice ambulance guys helped stuff me back into the car and we went home - me, in AGONY.
After some weeks of enforced house arrest, my family were very fed up and barely speaking to me, convinced that I was just the biggest wuss. 'She never could cope with pain, tell her to get a grip!' By May, an earlier than expected neurological relapse kicked in. Following a heated conversation, my generally charming consultant, rather uncharacteristically, snapped, 'I am the consultant and you do what I say, as I know best!' I was bugging him too.
In hospital, it turned out I had broken my leg when I fell - my femur to be exact - a nice clean snap, which even I was able to see clearly, along with my oesteoporific bones on the Xray. My family took refuge in the belief that, with my neurological deficiencies, I don't feel pain as much as a normal person. Sweet!
I have to keep the leg 'AS STILL AS POSSIBLE' - surprisingly difficult for a paralysed person - and attend hospital appointments for my oesteoporific bones, check ups on the leg, oh, yada, yada, yada...
So cheer me up, make me laugh or I will be adding anti depressants to my list of tablets. I think EaZyD might need these too. He has organised some meditation sessions for us starting this week....OMMMMMMMMMM...YES, I FEEL CALMER ALREADY…