Jess: how you going to wash your hair Mom?
Me: in a bowl you just splash a load of water on and give it a good rubbing. It's all ever did when I was a girl
Luke: is that before you used to spread the beef dripping on?
Me sitting on a bed pan at visiting time nothing happening: is that me or Danny?
Me to social worker: my husband has been endeavouring to meet my personal needs for 42 years why change the habits of a lifetime?
So the legs are worse, no feeling at all from top of thighs down. Doubly incontinent too and that's a breeze in the main. I can wash and brush half way, including the hair scrubbing and beef dripping application and then the nurses take over. They do it tenderly, with humour and it's really rather nice.
Yesterday I went to the gym and managed to shuffle from a slidy banana, ooh er missus, onto a wheelchair. So that was progress.
Social worker and OT have started the discharge process and so beds will be arriving and carers lined up. I have to prove I am a medical case to get funding but that should not be hard.
To say it has all been disturbing is an under- statement. To have totally senseless stumps sticking out of you and not being able to twitch a toe puts a very different perspective on life and knowing that this is your life now no going back. But I am coping friends I am the cheeriest on the ward. As I said yesterday I am still me, I can write a symphony, I might just try and publish this blog and become a strange, quirky, commentating superstar for a while. Who needs legs?