Masters in Mixology. Chapter 10

Without question not doing very much for several weeks has been soul destroying.  For anyone with an active and busy lifestyle I’d equate it to someone removing hair from your armpits with tweezers. Pulsatingly painful and tedious. So it was exhilarating today when I managed to leave my cell. (Sorry room).

It has been 7 weeks since my accident and today  I was coaxed out into the autumn sunshine for a little stroll. I felt like a baby being dangled by the arms by an overly keen parent as my husband tried to make sure I managed to complete this task without ending up on my backside. I soon found my rythmn with the crutches but the drop in temperature  was like a boa constrictor  crushing the muscle and making it loupe. So  it was  an abrupt about turn and back to the house.

It’s a bit of a miracle I could do this as Monday, when I went for physio,  I was reduced to a blubbering idiot.   The short walk into the department, combined with a lengthy seat in the waiting room,  just put too much pressure on the injury and I was in extraordinary pain by the time I was seen.  In the end we had to abandon the session. So what made the difference today?

Pain relief.  Managing the pain has been troublesome from the beginning.  Initially given co-codamol augmented later by diazepam and then  5mls of morphine it was clear this pain needed a particular strength of relief.  Since then I’ve also been prescribed  paracetamol, oramorph and  ibruprofen. I used to work in a bar but mixology when it comes to drug cocktails is not my forte.  I also agonised over taking so many  tablets so at the first sign of improvement I jumped at the chance to reject them.  Anyone who suffers pain for longer than a day has my sympathy because finding a long term solution isn’t easy.

In my situation there were a couple of factors; medical people were split between  using the least and best available. Mixing or combining is confusing; it needs a masters in chemistry and it’s never quite clear anyway what combination will  bring the best relief until you’ve mastered it. When you are in so much pain its difficult to concentrate  or even remember what works best.

Then there’s the “Oh I’m actually fine today”  and you skip the meds in the vain hope you might be on the mend. Monday was the result of one, two skip a few, 99, 100. The main culprit was in missing the night-time morphine, which had been bringing me instant relief. And much needed sleep when finding comfort through the night was almost  unachievable.  I was so cocky I took nothing and the next day I paid for it.

Medication is not a cosmetic comfort.  Any medic will advise you of this. Take the medication and take it regularly, particularly in this type of injury. At present the only relief is with the morphine, paracetamol and the ibruprofen. It does not numb the pain completely, its still there, but I am much clearer about the need to stick to the plan if I want to get up and go.

That is why today I was as graceful as a gorilla, a little less like Frankenstein looking for Halloween. I passed my mixology exams and finally got to strut my stuff outside………

wine glass on table
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And it was those block heel boots! Chapter 1

I am fed up lying here looking at the ceiling. I’m not thinking of England or anything like that, (no such luck) no, indeed  it’s unusual I’m lying down at all.  At my age I  really should have known better, so what brought me to this incapacitation anyway?  Well a stage three hamstring tear did … and you’re right its “aaagggggonnnnny” 🤢.

Don’t panic I’m not an athlete 🏃‍♀️ it’s not  caused career limiting devastation  but,  all the same, it’s restricting. Surprisingly  ‘Google’ had little in the way of informing me  about this condition so “life’s little dramas” has been driven by the absence of material on line and has resulted in my very first blog.  Back to the details..

Have you ever been so looking forward to something? I was that day. I was meeting a former colleague  to hatch work plans. He’d just finished working on a programme for the BBC so my inner actress had been ignited and  I had arranged lunch with wine ( of course) to contemplate our next collaboration.

I pulled out last years winter boots, 👢the ones with a bit of a block heel ( they still looked good ok  😙 don’t judge, but they are important in the story).  I felt they would give me height, elongating my  less than lean silhouette and conceal the inevitable  menopausal midriff , making me  look  at least 20 years younger ( it was for TV after all).

By some unintentional alignment of the stars I even managed to have scheduled my nail appointment before my meeting,  to ensure the appropriate  level of sophistication and colour would  gracefully  enhance my glass holding action. As everyone knows essential details for every budding actress 💅🏼.   The girls at Fabulous do such a fantastic job on nails and the atmosphere is so Steel Magnolias. Why not visit them?   I digress….

Iphones are irreplaceable  for the modern menopausal woman, especially the weather app  to advise me on what clothing is suitable?  This naturally then leads to  the right choice of  handbag 1)  Is it the right colour for the coat/boots?  and 2) Can my brolly hide gracefully among the  unchecked detritus that lurks within?  I can confirm all the right choices were made as the  drama that day was to prove………

I answered emails, made appointments, surveyed Facebook,  skimmed Twitter and generally managed my life through my iPhone like the rest of the  world does on the train. It’s only 20 minutes 🚆 so  my screen time was limited in case you’ve become concerned that the iphone is  featuring a little too much in this story. I am by definition a silver surfer but do my best to maintain a mainstream interest in all things Apple.

I arranged  en route to meet my colleague in Waverley prior to our lunch at Bon Vivant where I was looking forward to nice food, wine and a catch up. If you haven’t been it is a lovely restaurant with great ambience and fine wines. Give it a whirl … we couldn’t that day…..

It was pissing with rain in Edinburgh🌧, and I was   slightly smug  at my preparations when I noted my colleague was missing  his galoishes and sou’wester. He was however  very smart in his matching tweed jacket and waistcoat.  Fleetingly I wondered whether  bald men were irritated by the rain, I can’t tell you what it does to my hair,  hence the hood and the brolly!🌂

After a swift cocktail🍹, with  no real alcohol content of any note,  we ventured out into Princes Street and the  torrential rain. My colleague was less than eager to venture out so I thrust my  slightly despoked brolly up, which  the grandchildren had used  to catch balls in the summer. I wrapped a congenial arm through my colleagues and off we trotted in good spirits despite the torrential rain toward our restaurant. We gibbered and glided with best foot forward into the recently refurbished  St Andrew’s Square.

At this point I want to point out he was  just a colleague; yes  we have enjoyed a few glasses of wine and lunch once or twice.  We had  worked together in our respective roles but in all honesty he was   still just a colleague and had never really seen me vulnerable.  You  do know what I mean by that?  VULNERABLE? It’s not really a condition I like to publically  display to colleagues or for that matter strangers. 😲

But within minutes of entering the water laden St Andrew’s Square, my rubber block heel (remember those) left boot aqua-planed quite gracefully but unexpectedly across the recently laid  marble styled paving. With my arm entangled tightly around my colleague to share the brolly, the resulting action from the sudden slip was to start to impersonate Bambi on ice. Down I went squealing with pain and twirling in a pool of incessant rain.  Legs akimbo, fear etched on my eyes, writhing in agony,  feeling trepidation,  suppressing anxiety,  recoiling in distress but most of all ‘greeting like a big wean…….’   what the hell just happened?

adorable baby beautiful bed
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