Good news today. I will not be increasing Damart's profits after all, with a large consignment of Granny pants. It seems that my operation will not require a plaster cast, merely a surgical boot. This can obviously be removed at strategic moments while getting dressed: another fear allayed.
I also asked about a device for maintaining the foot in the air (above heart level). Apparently this can be achieved with the use of pillows and cushions. So simply a question of piling 'em high, I imagine. I'll keep you posted.
So today, the first day of retirement which should really be marked in some way with a little something bubbly and alcoholic, is being toasted with a cup of tea. I have decided that until I am fully mobile my body is to be a Temple (with a teeny weeny wine bar round the back).
Seven pounds in seven days ... a new diet in The Times this morning. Whilst I accept I am a sucker for a new diet regime, I actually think that 7 pounds less of me to put pressure on my feet at this critical time would be very advantageous.
Anyway, I have placed an order for all the ingredients I require which actually include red wine and Lindt chocolate. I am quite unusually excited.
I assure you this is not going to turn into one of those dieting, Bridget Jones type blogs but obviously when one is about to become laid-up one has to plan ahead foodwise. My children have kindly promised to bring supplies of home-made dishes as they fear their undomesticated father needs support.
Meanwhile his eyes have glazed over at the thought of a week's supplies of Charlie Bighams ( or Charlie Big Uns as we fondly call him). These are ready made meals of an exceptionally high calibre. However Charlie puts cals into calibre. And very yummy they are too. After a week of Big Uns I'll probably need a pair of surgical boots and maybe a zimmer frame... So I intend to ration these. I read Killjoy in my husband's eyes.
No comments:
Post a Comment