Yesterday I was feeling rather energetic and managed to relieve some of my OCD and I finally cleaned the kitchen! I felt so much better after, I cannot begin to tell you how good it felt! I could relax and happily lounge around in bed knowing that downstairs was sparkling. Sad I know!
Later on in the afternoon, mum came home to take me out to the local hospital for my weekly torture (sorry, physiotherapy) session. We turned into the road leading to the hospital to be greeted by a tail back of traffic going up to the car park. Bugger! I suddenly remembered mum has a friend who lives nearby and is always saying to park on his drive, worth a try I said! We pulled up outside his house and mum rang him to make sure it was OK, which it was of course! We hobbled down the road to the physiotherapy department (mum has a sympathy limp). We both walked in sniggering about the looks I was getting. It is as though people are desperately trying not to look, yet they are still trying to sneak a look at my leg. They don’t seem to realise that they may as well be staring at my leg on their hands and knees with a great big sign stuck to their foreheads saying “I’m looking at your leg.”
When we went in, the physiotherapist made me do some exercises using the fitness ball. I had to lay on my back (wouldn’t have minded being in this position so much if she was better looking) and roll the ball around with my feet. I would have much rather had balls in-between my legs right now (what?! It’s been a while!), then she suggested the bike! Mum and I looked at each other both looking vaguely amused by this suggestion. I just about managed to hop onto the bike and had to cycle extremely bow legged! I was only on level one but it felt really difficult all the same! By the end of my session, I was ready for a long hot bath and bed.