Legging It

Well it’s been almost three weeks since the plate and screws went into the ankle, so today I had my first out-patients appointment to see how it’s all mending. Due to the unique way in which the NHS works, this meant I had to go to a hospital which is far far away, or Ascot as it is known round these parts. Because I can’t bear weight I get transport though. So I was ready well before the appointed time (you are told to be ready two hours before your appointment time) but the Ambulance turned up a mere hour before the scheduled appointment. There were a couple of people already on board, we picked up another on the way, then everyone else was thrown off at a Hospital in Windsor and I continued in Splendid Isolation to Heatherwood arriving 30 minutes early for the “Fracture Clinic”.

The advantage of sitting in a deserted waiting room meant that I was first up and into the system. The old cast was removed, the stitches taken out, and a new cast fitted. This time I did get a choice of colours, I chose red to honour the British and Irish Lions Rugby Union team.

Scar

What that doesn’t show is the “seam” about the thickness of a pencil down the leg. The foot is rather puffier and more bloated than I’d imagined it would be.

Red cast

Then it was straight on to the X-Ray department for a short wait and another X-Ray, before back to the “Fracture Clinic” and a consultation with the Surgeon who performed the procedure. He seemed quite pleased with the progress, but wants me to wait a further four weeks before the cast comes off and work on the rehab can begin. So that’ll be in time for the Winter Solstice, then.

3 weeks on

It’s a smaller hospital than the one I was initially treated in, and the particular unit where the clinic was held seems like quite a new building, everything was quick and efficient. There was a warning in the X-Ray department that as they were rolling out the news computerised PACS system there might be some delays, but they seemed to be rattling though customers at a rate of knots whilst I was there.

As soon as I emerged from the Consultation there was a driver waiting for me, we collected another patient and departed, avoiding the traffic leaving the racecourse, dropped the other patient at a Quite A Posh Nursing Home in Old Windsor, and used local knowledge to out-wit the evening school-run traffic to make it home in time for tea and muffins.

It’s still another four f*@$£%g weeks on crutches, though.

~ by @mmonyte on November 20, 2009.