So what can we do when tearing hair out and at screaming point with frustration? It’s now coming up to eight weeks since I broke my shoulder. The consultant tells me that the breaks are healing well. I am going to physio and doing the exercises but the consultant also told me that I will never be able to lift that arm above my head and it will take eighteen months to get back the optimum use. How am I going to put jumpers on? I don’t want to knit all of my jumpers with buttons down the front.
However, I can do much more with it albeit punctuated by cries of “ow!” as I forget the limit of movement. Typing with one hand is tiring and I still have a solid black bruise from shoulder to elbow. I realise that I obviously tore muscles, ligaments and whatever else is lurking under the skin but I fully expected the bruise to be technicolour green and yellow by now. Sigh.
In the midst of all this I had a birthday. My birthdays in France were somewhat non-events as my trips to the UK were always spring or autumn but this last one was very enjoyable apart from a dental appointment in the morning.
Zoë, my goddaughter and Eva her daughter, Daniel my godson and my friend Isabelle, their mother, came to visit and Zoë brought a meal she’d prepared plus a cake with strawberries and cream she baked. She’s a brilliant cook. The kitchen was immaculate when she’d finished too – no sign of a meal for five having been prepared and eaten. I loved every minute. (Not the dentist, obviously!)
Flowers brought by Zoë.
They did a wonderful job of cheering me up over quite a few days.