The Removal! Good Bye Nicholas

So with a glowing fear in my belly I went to the JR on Monday. Hopefully I would be leaving a little bit lighter and a lot happier. But until the frame was actually gone I somehow couldn’t bring myself to actually believe it would happen.

As planned I had an X-ray and then my surgeon removed the three bolts that we have been adjusting. This removed any weight support that the frame was giving me and so allowing me to put weight through my leg and testing out my newly mended bones. James and I went to the Cafe for a cuppa (and a sneaky Belgium Bun). Sitting there my mind was racing and the suspense but built up like a sky scraper. Would my leg be able to take it? Would it suddenly bend in an abnormal way?
With all these thoughts racing through my mind James and I wandered nervously around the hospital until 1pm finally arrived and we made our way back to outpatients to hear my fate.

The lack of pain in the fracture sight gave us a huge thumbs up, Nicholas was going!

I was shown a bed in the plaster room whilst my surgeon went ‘to find some toys’ ….aka a wire cutter and clamp type contraption used to pull out the pins. I was very aware that yet again I found myself in the middle of the children’s clinic. I has to control myself and not say anything inappropriate. I was given the entonox (gas and air) and away I went. Unfortunately my other world wasn’t far enough from my reality and the removal of Nicholas was horrific.
They start by removing the clamps on top of the two screws and then cutting each wire at both sides to enable them to remove the frame itself. With each cut of the wires the ‘twang’ was felt through my leg inside my bones, not a feeling I wish to ever experience again.
With the wires cut he went about removing each one, simply pulling it out. Each wire takes seconds but it could have been hours. As each pin was removed the emotions built up and up inside me. The fear, the relief, the pain, the exhaustion, the anger. How can one person feel so many things at once?
But now came the time that I had been dreading the most. The two screws needed to be unscrewed from my leg. Laying there whilst he removed them, breathing the gas and air, holding onto James for dear life brought it all back to me. Laying on the car park floor in pain and being so incredibly scared. I have no idea why those images and feelings came back to me. Maybe to show how far I have actually come.
Once the screws were free four and a half months of emotion escaped. I sobbed and the tears flowed. I was finally free, I couldn’t believe I had done it. It was very hard to take it all in.
James and I celebrated that night with fabulously cooked steak and champagne.

That was two days ago and looking back it all seems to surreal. I can finally wear my jeans again, I’m not cold for the first time in a long time. I can feel the smooth coolness of my bed sheets wrapped around my leg at night. I keep stroking my leg like a lost pet! My ankle is quite sore as it had three of the pins directly through it so it will take a while to get over the trauma.
I still have a way to go but I am on the home straight.

The ugly reminder of my frame is still there in the wounds left by the pins and screws. They will fade with time and hopefully with them they will take the dark memories of my journey so far.


This Blog Is For Me ….. if you don’t like it don’t read it

I didn’t start this blog for sympathy or to make out as though I am hard done by. I started it because something traumatic happened to me and I needed a way to deal with it and the emotions that it bought. Before the age of word processing and Internet I would have gone to the shop and bought a pad and pen. But as this is 2012 here I am on my iPad using WordPress. I haven’t asked anybody to read it, I haven’t asked for comments or words of advice. Last year I watched my step father die of Cancer so I am fully aware that there are bigger problems in the world than my broken legs. However that doesn’t take away from what I am going through. This diary is personal to me, I was run over, my legs were broken and I am in pain. I don’t feel sorry for myself in the slightest, I wake up every morning with a strength I didn’t know I had and fight my way through the day. I have a gorgeous family who I am strong for every day. I smile, I laugh and help create happy memories for my children. I use this as my place to let out my anger, pain and fears. I am not ashamed of that.
If you don’t agree with it, or you don’t like it, please, just don’t read it.

Since court last Wednesday there have been ups and downs. I was so immensely angry (and as it would seem so were a large proportion of our family and friends). The support I have been shown has been truly amazing. It’s a relief to know that the anger I felt wasn’t born out of self pity but rather the injustice of the decisions made.
(I made front page of the Oxford Mail for their follow up story, my claim to fame!)
After their article, written in my favour, the CPS responded standing by their desicions stating
“The most important aspect of cases like this for victims is for the defendant to acknowledge responsibility for the injuries caused.”
Yes, is absolutely true. However, I would have expected the fact that she was in control of a motor vehicle and ran someone over without (apparently) realising she’d done it quite disturbing. And then leaving the scene and not even trying to help rather serious. I mean, she just left me there. How can she be found not guilty of that? She did it!
But what is done is done. I will always be angry and carry the feeling of being let down but I need to focus my energy on healing and direct my anger there. I won’t let her take over my life, I need to try and move on from the accident. I start counselling next week, I need to look forward.

We went to my Mum’s this weekend and had a night out with my Aunt for dinner and a family Sunday lunch out at the garden centre. It felt good to go out and do normal things. I was a little nervous before going out for dinner but it vanished as soon as we got there. It was heading to be a good weekend until this afternoon …….

I seem to be entering a second pin site infection. The pain is excruciating and the weariness is brings is almost unbearable. It creates many unwanted tears but that just seems to be the course. James deals with my episodes of continuing sobbing so well. He just opens his arms and scoops me up. It’s a wonderful feeling to know you are loved. I might have been dealt a bad hand but it has made me realise how lucky I am.
Right now I cannot put any weight on my leg without wanting to scream and even resting it hurts. I cannot get comfortable and and am so anxious I am almost shaking. Tonight I know will be a hard one and I won’t be counting on a lot of sleep. If I can just get through it relatively calmly without too many tears I will be happy. I will be calling the Trauma unit first thing and it’ll be another trip to hospital no doubt.

Closing ceremony of the Olympics tonight. I’m absolutely gutted that I only got to be part of London 2012 from my sofa 😦 I have felt extremely proud to be British over the last fortnight. Go Team GB!

‘Justice’ Is Done

Today was the day that we had been waiting for. The time had come for her to come up against our legal system, face what she had done and hear what her actions have caused my family and I.
Unfortunately things did not go our way.

Sitting in the waiting area, after a complete sleepless night for us both, James and I were exhausted. We kept ourselves busy with reading, music, iPads and phones.
There was a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.
This was a whole new experience and I had no idea what the outcome would be. I kept expecting to see her appear from somewhere but as the case was called after a two hour wait it became apparent that she was hidden away in a side room.
Seeing her there, in front of me, didn’t bring the reaction in me that I thought it would. I wasn’t scared, angry or upset. I felt totally numb. This was the woman who had turned my life upside down and I felt absolutely nothing. I couldn’t see her face as she was facing the Judges. I could however see the faces of her relatives. Her son looked smug throughout the entire hearing. Occasionally he exchanged words with his partner that resulted in chuckles. What could they have to laugh about? Me sitting there nervously waiting? The fact that my leg was encased in a metal cage? Whatever their reasons it filled me with disgust. Do they have no shame?

The CPS read out their argument first, failing entirely to read my victim impact statement (for which I am going to complain) and then her solicitor had his time.
Apparently, at the time she didn’t realise that it was actually her that had run me over. It has only been since the evidence has been presented to her that she realises that it must have been her. According her solicitor she is ‘deeply sorry and full of regret’. Well, how nice of her. Who exactly is she sorry to because I sure haven’t received any of her apologies.

She pleaded guilty to driving with undue care and attention.
Hearing her say those words bought a blanket of relief. I breathed easy for the fist time sitting there.
My ease was short lived though.
Because of early guilty plea they dropped the charges for failing to stop and failing to report an accident.
She was fined £90 plus costs and given six penalty points.
That’s it. Our legal system has performed ‘justice’.

I don’t want to rant about how the system has let me down. I do believe that we are lucky to have a legal system in which everyone has the right to a proper defence and trial.
However I do feel incredibly let down. Sitting there in court today and listening to what was said, I don’t feel that a true account of what happened on that day was given at all. All they’ve heard is that she ran me over accidentally and is apparently really sorry. They didn’t hear about the true extent of the injuries, the hours of pain I have suffered, the anguish my children have been through as a result.
How is that justice? Someone, please explain it to me as I am totally and utterly lost.

My head cannot process the fact that you can be charged with three offences, and just because you plead guilty to one of them (as though you are being the helpful one) you can just be let off of the others. It doesn’t make you any less guilty of them so why shouldn’t you be punished for them?

On reflection, the CPS solicitor was utter rubbish. He mumbled his way through, wasn’t sure of his facts and acted as though he’d rather be anywhere but there.
Should I have employed my own solicitor? I wasn’t even told if that was an option?
I feel totally and utterly cheated.
Through no fault of my own I was run over, both of my legs broken leaving me and my family distraught and lost. She has received no punishment that will have any affect on her.
How is this fair?
You can run someone over and callously leave them there and all you face is six points and a pathetic fine.
I will be left with this for the rest of my life and the memories will always haunt me. The nightmares, the panic attacks, the pain, the fear ……

I think she sleeps soundly at night.

I am trying really hard not to be angry as I know it will do no good however I am failing. I have never known what true anger is until now. It is running through my bones and I cannot stop it. I am fighting back the tears as I am too scared that they won’t stop.
Until now I didn’t, but right now I actually despise her.
What kind of vile human being is she?

How do I move on from this with the knowledge that she has suffered nothing yet I am still suffering today, almost 13 weeks later and still have a long journey ahead?

I feel so unbearably distraught.


Busy Time

We’ve had a busy week for the Hyatt household!

Last Sunday I had a bad day. I didn’t sleep very well the night before which never helps and I was very upset all day. I had a ball of anxiety rumbling in my tummy and with it came a river of tears. They flowed unashamedly all day, not worrying about who saw or who heard the cries.
I don’t know why I have days like this. I do know that on good days I still carry a certain amount of fear with me so perhaps it all builds up and then inevitably erupts when I cannot hold it in any longer.
Whatever the reason may be, I know that it wont last forever, I will get better.

I have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and I am due to begin counselling in the next few weeks. I knew I wasn’t right so there is relief in the knowledge that how I am feeling and the constant ups and downs are normal and there is help available. There is nervousness about it and having to face my problems but I am also looking forward to finally dealing with all of the emotions rolling around inside and being able to really move on.
Despite becoming more and more mobile I am feeling more anxious about going out. I feel very nervous if we need to go somewhere and the thought of being amongst large groups petrifies me. I can’t work out why, I don’t know what I think is going to happen but I just can’t do it.

We did however take a last minute trip to The Wirral in the week to see James’ Grandad. James’ Mum came with us which helped with my nerves as I knew there would be someone else there (and as it turned out was a huge blessing) Luckily we stay at his Aunt’s house which is located on the beach front, it’s beautiful and we always love it it when we go. The children had a fantastic time playing on the sand and Grandad Henry definitely enjoying seeing them. Children are without a doubt therapeutic.
I found it hard to not be in the middle of the fun, instead I sat on the beach in my chair watching from afar. This is when I get angry and what the accident has taken away from me.
But unfortunately poor Charleigh had an accident which resulted in a dash to A&E. James took her crabbing and she fell from the rocks into the sea and cutting her leg badly on the way down. Karin and I took her as James was soaking wet from rescuing her! She was ever so brave though and luckily it happened at the the end of our trip and she will make a full recovery 🙂

Yesterday I had Physio for the first time since having the boot removed. Despite doing so well walking around, O didn’t realise how much I still couldn’t do until I was asked to try. It was a huge reminder that I still have a long way to go! I have lots of exercises to do three times a day to get my ankle working again as it should.
It’s very easy to get so focused on having casts, boots and cages removed that it’s easy to forget that the journey doesn’t end there, in some sense it only just starts.

This weekend we are back at my Mum’s for a family Christening. I love being here, I always feel so much calmer when I’m with her. I’ve said it before but it’s true, no matter how old you are you always want your Mum. And my Mum is amazing.
We are missing a night out tonight to London because I just cannot face it mentally. It really angers me that I cannot just pull myself together enough to just do it. James is so patient with me and my to-ing and fro-ing. As always he is my rock, pulling me up when I am down and holding me when I am up.


Ten Weeks On

Ten weeks doesn’t sound a lot. You wouldn’t think that you could achieve very much in that time. Or maybe you could, I mean how often do any of us really measure an amount of time and judge what we could have done? How often do we set ourself goals and be able to say that we have achieved them? Maybe some of you (assuming anyone is reading this) do do this, but it wasn’t something that I was good at.

But in the last ten weeks I have been to hell and back. I’ve had my legs broken and half fixed, am in the process of now learning to walk properly again and have realised what really is and isn’t important in my life.

My sense of time would normally revolve around school holidays.
How many weeks until half term?
How many weeks until they go back to school?
We are just starting the six week summer holidays. Usually I would enter this phase with a small sense of dread. No more toddler groups to entertain the boys plus an active 10 year old to amuse as well.
But this year I look at the next six weeks as the end of a very difficult journey and the beginning of the next phase. I am unsure how I feel. Excited? Nervous? Sad? Angry?
Probably a little bit of everything.
There is still a bit of me that is definitely angry. Despite the large part of me that is able to look upon this as an amazing opportunity to do something fantastic, there is still a small fire of anger for the fact that I am even having to go through this. But I think that we all need that little fire to keep us focused and strong and able to see the brighter future we can have if only we open our eyes and hearts to the possibility.

I am so proud of what I have achieved, the human body is a remarkable thing. I have come so far but I am under no illusions that the next chapter will be an easy ride.
I still get very frustrated and I am so hard on myself, every time I reach a new goal it is never enough. I want more. I am just so desperately unhappy with this cage stuck on my leg, with its pins and screws invading my bones that nothing is never enough to ease the emotional suffering it brings along side the magic it is working on the breaks.
It hasn’t even been a week yet that I have been able to walk around confidently with my crutches and quite often without them, yet already I hate their presence and feel so upset and despondent when it hurts too much to not use them. I am fed up with my feet swelling up and I hate the involuntary spasms in my legs. Honestly the list could go on!

But carry on I shall for defeat is simply not an option.

Today is the first day in ten weeks that James and I have been apart. I have felt like my right arm has been missing. How did it become that I couldn’t even last a day without my husband? Crazy!
So I sit here in bed, in my old bedroom at my Mum’s house, waiting to hear the key in the door, trying hard not to cry (even though I am not entirely sure why I even want to cry) and think about the next ten weeks and what I want to achieve.


Feeling Claustrophobic

Before the accident I used to have Wednesday’s to myself when the boys were at nursery. I didn’t do anything exciting with my day, I normally caught up on housework, Phoenix things or any other odd jobs that were just easier to do without the boys.

Since the accident I haven’t had more than an hour to myself and it is starting to make me feel very claustrophobic.

Every time I need or want something I have to ask for it. Yes I am getting more mobile but it is still impossible for me to fetch my own food or drink. It’s tricky trying to carry something around whilst needing to use crutches.
I cannot shower or wash my hair without someone’s help (and having to drive to someone’s else’s house first).
If the boys are having a meltdown or need a cuddle I can’t pick them up but at the same time I cannot walk away either. If they chose to have a tantrum next to my chair there isn’t a lot I can do about it. I am totally stuck.
I’m having vitamins and drinks and nutrients given to me numerous times during the day and I know they are for the better, they are helping me, but I just feel totally out of control of everything. What if just for one day I don’t want to pouring things down my throat?
My life doesn’t feel my own anymore. Everyone else seems to know what’s best for me, I feel like I’ve lost the right to say no, I seem to have lost my voice.

I cannot even sleep when I’m tired unless I take a tablet, and that didn’t even work as I lay there awake until 4am. When I did finally fall asleep I was woken by a daughter getting told off for not getting ready to for school. The lack of sleep brings with it a headache that appears to have set in for the day.

I’m feeling suffocated by it all and just want to run away.

So writing this I am sat in bed at almost 1pm. I don’t want to go downstairs so I’m not, I just can’t be bothered if I am honest. I am quite comfortable and happy in bed so why should I go downstairs? Because it’s apparently better for me? Well today I am going to decide what’s best for me and to begin with it’s staying right here watching old episodes of The OC.


Halfway Milestone

As of tomorrow I can finally say that I am halfway through my journey with Nicholas.
Eight weeks since the operation. I guess most people think that the time has flown by, but for me is has been painfully slow. I have heard each second of every day tick by.
This is unless the bones didn’t listen and are healing in the wrong order, in which case the timescale may change. I have a whole list of questions to ask my surgeon when we are back at the JR on Monday, and this time I will ask them instead of getting over excited by the xrays and totally losing all common sense and leaving with more questions than I started with.
This is the first time I have been a little nervous about a hospital visit as this time there are answers that I want to hear instead of just needing any answer.

The halfway milestone has been acknowledged a couple of days early in the form of a letter from the police. The first hearing at court has been set for 8th August.
Seeing the letter and reading in black and white that she is actually going to have to face what she has done bought with it a mix of emotions.
There is definitely a part of me that is excited, not in a bitchy, revengeful way, but as someone who has never had to deal with the law, the whole process is new and I am intrigued to see how it will play out.
I am also undoubtedly nervous about seeing her in person and hearing her talk. I have only ever seen her from afar, when she kindly looked back at me broken in the road, I have never heard her voice and I have no idea how I will react.
Will I be angry, upset, scared?
It makes me nervous not knowing how I am going to feel. Maybe I will feel all of the above.
I am scared about how she will react to me being there. As it is only a hearing there is no legal need for me to be there, but I need to be. There is no way I could sit at home wondering. I have to be there.
On the 8th she will just be making her plea, guilty or not guilty. The charges are failing to stop at an accident, failing to report an accident, and driving with undue care and attention. I am keeping an open mind as to what will happen as the truth is we just don’t know. She will take advice of her solicitor (assuming she actually has one) and whatever happens will happen. Of course I am desperately wanting her to plead guilty as that is what she is.
But I am in no doubt that she views the accident very differently to me.
We will see.
One of my biggest daemons at the moment is the fact that she has no idea how her actions (or lack of them depending on how you look at it) have affected me and my family. I am going to speak to the officer in charge of the case today and ask about the possibility of writing a Victim Impact Statement. Is it written by me to be read out in court explaining how the accident has affected me. I don’t want to do it because I hate her or want to hurt her with my words, I am not vindictive, I don’t want an apology or remorse, it’s gone way past that. I need to do it for my own healing process, I have to know she has heard how I feel.

So, 27 days and counting …….


Cleaning, Friends & Ouch!

The day started with tears, has ended with pain but the middle bit was alright!

When I bum shuffled down the first set of stairs this morning I was greeted with two cheeky smiles on the landing. My gorgeous little boys! Henry was eager to show me something very funny in his eyes, him wearing my Ugg boots. However, before I had a chance to tell him to move away from the stairs he was attempting to put them, lost balance and toppled head first down them and all I could do was watch and yell for James. I promptly burst into tears, totally mortified that there was nothing I could do, yet again, to comfort my son. He wasn’t hurt, just shocked, and I think I was more upset than him.

So, after eating breakfast amongst the madness that is our house in the mornings I did what I do to relieve stress …… I cleaned!
I got myself up on my crutches and I cleaned my kitchen sides and sink, emptied and re-filled the dishwasher, swept the kitchen floor and hung some washing up to dry. Boy, it felt so good to be doing just normal things! I never thought I’d see the day when I got actually excited by menial household jobs!

We have a few plans here and there for this week which I like. However much I hate going out, especially if it means being around people, I know I must do it. I can’t be a hermit and the longer you avoid something the worse it becomes. I hate wishing time away but I really want July to be over with. When we finally reach August I will be able to say that next month, I will be Nicholas free. I don’t care about the cast or boot that I might have afterwards, anything but the cage.

The house has been filled with laughter and fun today. We had an extra toddler running around as we were looking after a friends little boy. It is so uplifting to hear the giggles of small children and see them interact with each other and they are such good friends it was really beautiful watching them play.
The friend in question has been an absolute tower of strength to not only me but James as well. Nothing is ever too much trouble and she is always there with a cuddle and a smile. She is one of life’s good people and I feel very lucky to be able to call her a friend. Love you x

It has taken a while for my boys to become comfortable with me and my legs. Now they quite happily clamber onto my lap, play with the metal rings on my cage, tread on my toes if I’m stood up. It is hard to find the right balance between them being happy and natural with me yet aware that I do still have bad legs (something Archie could do well to remember when he’s launching a fire engine at me for me to save!) I am always very cautious to tell them to back off in case I push them away. But a lesson learnt tonight as Henry was sat on my lap and promptly fell onto my left leg …… ouch!! It was elevated in front of me and luckily I had the boot on but the pain! How I didn’t release a torrent of foul language is beyond me.
Needless to say I am now reaping the benefits of painkillers washed down with a cold beer!


Random Ramble

Well it’s lucky that I haven’t been counting on the weather to cheer me up! It certainly does nothing for my motivation to get up and about when it’s grey and miserable outside. I am really feeling the cold too, I sit under a blanket most of the time because I’m so chilly. Perhaps it’s due to my diminished level of activity. Whatever the reason, it’s not pleasant.

I dragged my bum out of bed today despite an awful nights sleep and straightened my hair and shaved my legs (I live a really exciting life!). I was hoping it would give me a feeling of well being, instead I just got annoyed that my left leg is looking really horrible and there are bits on the right that I cannot get to!
My left leg has lost all of it’s muscle and looks really thin and spindly with a large lump on the left hand side where the metal plate is. I am hoping that once I can start using the leg properly the muscle will come back and it won’t be as obvious as it is now. I find the mental reminder than it’s there hard enough without the cosmetic reminder. The right side of my left ankle that has been pinned looks odd and feels very different too. I suppose I just need to get used to the changes?
My right leg is just awkward because I have to keep it dry because of the risk of infection in the pin sites so I cover it with a bin bag when I shower. To wash and shave it I use a bowl of hot water and it’s vey frustrating. I’m never happy with the results, it never feels clean enough and I cannot shave it enough. Overall it’s not a very satisfying task.

One thing that this whole episode has shown me is how amazing some of my friends are. Despite the fact that some of them are going through so much themselves, they are still there for me. I don’t feel like a particularly good friend in return at the moment, I am so wrapped up in my own personal hell that I don’t feel I have anything to give anyone else. That just sounds so damn selfish though and I hate the sound of myself!

James is off out tonight with friends for some beers. I’d love to go as well, to socialise and just be normal for a night. But I just cannot bare the looks and the questions that all inevitably come when you walk into a room with two broken legs. I am so over talking about the accident, I feel like I have talked it to death, nothing I say ever makes it an easier pill to swallow. Every time I talk about it, I just get angry and upset, and today I feel that way anyway without adding to the cause.
In any case, James deserves some time off from being house husband and wife carer!
My babysitter (aka my mother in law!) is coming over for a girls night in 🙂


Goodbye Zimmerman

So the last few days have been a real struggle.

After feeling upbeat for so long I really thought I was finally coming out of the other side. Then like suddenly it feels like I am being pulled backwards and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Last Friday I just felt totally deflated and empty and the feelings just escalated. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, to see anyone, I didn’t even want to get out of bed. I cried constantly and my heart felt as though it was trying to escape. The knot of anxiety returned to my stomach and I couldn’t see anyway out.
I have been taking sleeping tablets to sleep at night otherwise I sit and watch the sun come up. They were running out so I went to my GP on Tuesday to ask for some more even though I was certain he wouldn’t oblige as he is already worried about dependency.  However, after a mini meltdown he agreed to give this emotional train wreck another two weeks worth of a different one along with some literature on self help for insomnia. He also suggested that I might like some counselling to try and come to terms with everything. I have to say I wholeheartedly agree and have made the first steps to get that started. My friends and family are brilliant at listening to me but I don’t think that I am really dealing with the accident and the position that it has left me in.
I am trying my hardest to be strong but I believe it’s coming at a price. I put on a brave face because I don’t want to just sit here and fall apart. But everyday I am dying inside with anger and frustration and it’s eating me up.
I still believe that something good will come out of this journey, my future is bright and exciting, but for the here and now I need some help.
I am not angry at her, I let that go., however I can’t get over the fact that I was actually run over and I have broken bones. Despite being excited when I first saw them, I am finding it increasingly difficult to look at my x-rays now.  They fill me with panic. The recovery was always going to be painful and long and I really am trying to deal with just one day at a time but it is becoming more and more difficult as they days appear to be getting longer and harder.
It’s mentally torturing living with an Ilizarov and I wasn’t prepared for that.
I wish that they had cut my leg off – anything but this cage. I hate it that much.
Now I understand that this sounds extreme and ridiculous, this is one of the reasons that I am going to get help as I know that my thoughts are not me, but something inside that needs to be fixed.
I am so exhausted from trying and crying, I need to heal emotionally as well as physically.

Despite my negative emotions, physically I am moving forward in every sense. Since having the cast replaced with the boot I have been moving around with my zimmerman and it’s been great, I have grown fond of it. When the cast was removed from the left I was told I could ‘partial weight bare’ on it. But what is partial? I haven’t been sure and thought I had probably put too much weight on it but I haven’t done anything that has caused me any pain or discomfort. The physio told me that it’s around 40lbs (3 stone) ….. much less than I have been using (according to the scales I am using about double that!) So I need to let off a bit until my next hospital appointment when hopefully I’ll be full weight with the boot.
Today my lovely physio changed the frame for crutches – WOW,  it’s a whole new world! The freedom you feel automatically from not having the frame surrounding you is amazing. I can see how I will be even more mobile with them but they are going to take some getting used to. In theory I can use them to get me up and down the stairs, I managed the couple that were in the physio room but with the knowledge that he was behind to catch me! Think I might stick to my bum at home for the time being, build up slowly! I feel like I have totally forgotten how to walk, evidently I no longer bend my knees despite the fact that there is nothing wrong with them. So with every new step I take you can hear me ‘bend the knee’, it’s quite comical really.

It’s been eight weeks this Saturday since my accident. Seven weeks this Friday since the operation. It just madness.

As said by someone wonderful
“To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping”