Part 8: Turning from a majestic gazelle to an elephant seal.

Isn't it amazing how just 1 day, can change exactly how the next day pans out. Yesterday I was a majestic gazelle. Today I am an elephant seal!
All the excitement must have been too much for me to bear yesterday. What with two different hospital appointment and a couple of friends coming round with the promise of pasties, you can see how I could be really excited! It was only the other week that I was talking to my recently retired mum about how the elderly or retired become set in their ways and their lives seem to revolve around medical appointments, that may only take 10 minutes, but seem to occupy their entire day. Well, you know what's coming next. How come that I feel just like this when I am neither elderly or retired? Erm, probably because I am peeing in a bucket downstairs, have an elderly reaching device,can't leave the house without a chaperone, can only just manage to get my own trousers on and, oh yes..... I actually look forward to watching the Alan Titchmarsh show. THAT IS WHY! In the space of a week, I have aged by about 50 years!
As I mentioned, I had 2 hospital appointments so I got dressed, even managed to wash my hair (with Nick's help) and crutched my way along to the appointments. I think, just because I had to, I managed to hop quite well and with my new found confidence, bounded down the corridors of Leeds General Infirmary not too dissimilar to a majestic gazelle prancing along the plains of Africa (Maybe a teeny hint of exaggeration there, but not far off) Sarah and Janey called round and I nearly managed to make 3 complete cups of tea, as well as having a good giggle and a catch up. Elegantly, raising myself up their stairs on my derriere, I sung the 'Grand Old Duke of York', sliding down cheerfully, I had sung 'She'll be coming down the mountain.' Nothing could stop me now. The world was my oyster.
Oh yes, my friends....... you've guessed it. Today was a different story. Maybe I overdid it yesterday. Whatever I did, it brought the darkness to my door (or portable toilet) this morning.  Once again, the M1 had returned to wrap itself around my left leg. My right leg felt like it had been on an all night drinking session that had finished with 3 shots of tequila. Thinking back to the David Attenborough programme that I watched the other night, my movements mimicked that of the elephant seal, sliding along on it's belly not really knowing what on earth it was doing. With what felt like flippers for hands, I slumped down the stairs on my aching bum, parked it 'in' the sofa (it's now going in the sofa, rather than on) and waited for the inevitable to happen. 'Dickensons Real Deal' to finish and good old Mr Titchmarsh to appear on my screen.
Sign me up for the nursing home when I start recording  'Loose Women'.