So we have gone from a sunny autumn into a wild winter and back again in the last few weeks. Work has been frantic and honestly, I’ve let all fitness sweep out the window in exchange for frantic frazzled extraordinary work hours.
Knee is a bit up and down, I’ve decided to swap the drugs around as I’m wondering if they are actually keeping me awake instead of helping me sleep.
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Massage is hard hard work now, I’m trying to pass as much of it as I can onto my other staff. It really seriously hurts my back and I fear that one day soon I will have to stop all together.
I have still heard nothing from the hospital about an appointment so I have to just keep trucking on. Last weekend that took the form of hatches hill.
It used to be a walk that was challenging but easy to complete. Now it’s become a challenge. But, forward I must march so I did it at my own wee pace while Mark ran round it a few times with one of my clients.
I felt pretty chuffed I still managed to complete it (but also quite upset at how slow I now am).
Then there was hypochondracat. What a bloody drama!
The cat hobbles in one day, sad wee eyes, usual melodrama she has shown us before in a previous boy who cried wolf story the last time she got in a fight.
Cat goes to vet, nah, nothing wrong just a scratch. Sends us away with pain killers. One day she’s hopping next she’s not, till I run out of pain killer and she seems ok. Then suddenly about two weeks later, hopping again. Won’t let us near it. Same paw. Bloody cat. We ignore her for a few days, this time she keeps limping. Back to the blooming vets. This time it’s an infected bite. Full leg bandage and amoxicillin.
24 hours later we are meant to remove the bandage: paw still pouring with blood and the cat is screaming and yelling and trying to bite me and get free. Mark managed to fashion a bandage back on.. yes.. back to the vet.
Vet looks at it.. no, it’s fine, not bleeding, of she goes, no charge!