Hello lovely people!
What a week! Saturday started with what now seems hilarious but at the time was, well, let’s say interesting. I woke up, made Victoria and myself a cuppa, woke her up gently and let her slowly re-enter the world of Harper. Whilst she was on that perilous journey I decided to refill the bird feeding station positioned on the edge of our elevated decking. So there I was outside in the warm sunshine in my dressing gown. Job well done! Then I noticed that our large bird bath was sitting at a jaunty angle on its stand, so I decided to straighten it up. I took it off, emptied out the water and put it upside down onto the decking to see what was wrong. AAAAH I see the problem! The three securing pegs were bent, probably from the last time I dropped it unless we have a plague of goat size ants or goats sized goats. Nope, must have been me. I leaned over in my wheelchair and proceeded to reposition the peg. When I’d done that I noticed another peg was slightly bent but it was on the far side of the upturned bowl. Instead of doing the sensible thing and rotating the bowl so I could reach it I decided it would be as easy to just lean further forward in my wheelchair to reach it. STUPID IDEA!!! As I sat forward and then reached forward, my chariot decided that gravity, mass, and centre of gravity were going to conspire against me and with that self-initiated perfect storm of dumbness I did a pratfall (because I was a PRATT) and ended up with my backside sticking up in the air, one of the metal pegs on the bowl impaled in my shin and luckily managed to just catch the edge of the decking with my hands. If I hadn't caught the edge I would have ended up completing my manoeuvre with a 3ft fall off the end of the decking into a rather scratchy and thick choisya bush. Phew! I called my savior (the boss) and after about 5 minutes was sat back in my chair, blood pouring out of my leg being lectured by Victoria and told that I should know better, especially as I used to have the responsibility for loading items in a Chinook with weight and balance and centre of gravity calculations for safe takeoff, landing and flight
What could I say? NEVER say the first thing that comes into your head except if you have a ‘breakthrough’ episode then you have no choice. I blame the MS breakthrough because I thought and said ‘well, the takeoff and flight were good, I only messed up the landing’. That’s all, no more needed to be said. I was transported at the speed of light back into the bedroom and treated to the T L C of an eagle on steroids (well deserved)
blood cleaned, Clearasil cream and plaster added and left with the loving, kind and gentle words I deserved – “Now SORT YOURSELF OUT WING COMMANDER!” At least it was a promotion from the rank I left the RAF with which was a sergeant.
The next couple of days were fairly quiet until Victoria looked at the hole in my shin and decided that a check with a nurse was in order. No problem, but I’m sure I didn’t need the tetanus jab etc etc and I definitely didn’t need the look of glee and justification that accompanied all of the procedures in the nurse's room. To be honest, my Dr’s surgery is fantastic, caring and efficient and so is Victoria. The reason I put the last but was just because of my embarrassment. Blogs CAN have some poetic license even if they’re not about poetry.
On Saturday it was Victoria’s birthday so we had a braai (new word for me) or BBQ to celebrate if with a couple of friends. A great time was had by all, but no rest was forthcoming on the day in question. So what. It’s one of those times that regardless of the handicap or difficulty you are encumbered with, oneself becomes less important than other people. This especially applies to wives, friends and relatives. If you go to church on Sundays and overdid it the day before (like me and like me) unless you snore or talk in your sleep a very long prayer with head bowed and eyes closed works well.
Then on Monday guess what? Erin my daughter and soon to be husband came round for a real braai because he’s from South Africa so more he cooked beautifully cooked lamb, fillet steak and boerewors in amazing quantity! I’m not going vegetarian, NEVER vegan and not carnivore so I now consider myself ‘flexitarian’ which encompasses all of the above -itarians plus any other -itarian available. This means the world is my oyster, my pasture and my field of expertise (see what I did there?). So a balanced diet is always a great idea as is a balanced wheelchair.