Saturday, 14 December 2013

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but Vauxhall Astras do it better

I've had enough and I want to run away. But given that I can't even bloody walk at the moment I guess that's out of the question.
I know there's plenty of people in a far worse situation than me, but I still can't help wallowing in self pity from time to time. I try to make light of things by doing Andy Pipkin impressions when I'm being pushed about in a wheelchair but thanks (presumably) to the side effects of the codeine I'm taking, my whole world feels like it has been turned upside down.
Somehow I now don't have much of a taste for coffee, preferring either tea or just water. I also seem to have a preference for savoury things rather than sweet, so expect shares in Cadburys to be in free-fall very soon.
The really bizarre thing is that my emotions have been affected in such a way that the least sentimental thing in a movie sends me off into floods of tears.
The fact that I've got the doc to prescribe a reduced dosage may be contributing to my feeling so crappy right now, suggesting that what I'm dealing with is withdrawal symptoms. But there's no way I want to be taking this stuff any longer than necessary - partly because I hate being reliant on any kind of medication no matter how good it is at its job, and partly because I'm so fucking desperate for a good old pint of ale.

On the up side, I've bought myself a walking stick in preparation for the next stage which should be in about four weeks time when I should be able to start putting weight on the left leg, and in just three weeks I'll be allowed to take off this damn leg brace.
The consultant was happy with the healing progress shown by the latest x-rays on Thursday, and as this was the first time I'd seen any of the images it was a bit of a shock to see the bits of bone floating around in the initial x-rays and CT scan. The latest images show the metal plates and screws very clearly, which is a bit disconcerting because it looks more like a shrapnel injury than a repair job but I suppose there are differences between orthopaedic surgery and the sort of engineering I'm used to.
All the spare time I've had sitting on the sofa hasn't been entirely wasted though, because I've managed to finish 'Red Dead Redemption' and spent lots of time searching for a decent car with automatic transmission so I can get myself mobile sooner and therefore be able to get back to work and achieve something a bit more meaningful with my days.
I've also devised a method of being able to make a cup of tea and get it from the kitchen to the living room without hopping and throwing it all over the floor and walls, by sitting in the wheelchair and scooting myself along with the good leg.
The wife says she's a bit concerned that I appear to be embracing crippledom, but I prefer to think of it as a problem-solving exercise and although I'm determined to not let this shit beat me, I'm also not going to try and rush it and bugger it all up and have to start from scratch again.
So there's definitely a light at the end of the tunnel and although it's frustrating having to take baby steps to get there, at least I can be pretty confident that I will get there in the end.