Yesterday the garbage truck that empties the rubbish bins left in the lane hit my garage wall, and did quite a lot of damage. A neighbour heard the bang and came out, took a photo, and noted whose truck it was, and when I came home he told me all the details. Very kind of him.The truck took off without leaving a note for me. I too have taken photos and have telephoned the wast collection company and the council. This was the second time the wall has been damaged by a truck. The house on the lane running parallel to mine has also been hit, and has only recently been repaired. It would be good to have all the damage repaired quickly. Who knows? Who can tell?
It has been a bit of a rough week. However the lymphoedema physiotherapist did phone, giving me a cancellation appointment yesterday afternoon. She says the lymphoedema is quite severe, massaged the afflicted arm, explained how to do it, wrote the instructions, and bandaged the arm. This morning I had to unwrap it, do the massage and then re-bandage. It took quite some time. During the day the hand became quite swollen, which made me feel rather panicky. The physiotherapist telephoned me this afternoon to hear how I was managing, so that was helpful. But I must confess to feeling rather buffetted and bashed by fate and bad fortune. And I feel rather exhausted and downcast.
I did get to choir last night, a kind friend having driven me there. I took a taxi home. We are singing lots of Verdi choruses. Although I know most of them to listen to, singing them is quite another matter, due to the speed, and to the elision of the words. The choir friend who sits beside me told me her own health drama - she had a nasty bout of tachycardia (?) which sounds like the opposite of what I had.
It was good to have a sing. And the Italian classes have recommenced, and it was lovely to see everyone, even though much of the language allegedly in my head has been pushed aside by more recent events.
My brothers and sisters are all going to the country this weekend to help celebrate my older sister's golden wedding anniversary. She is permanently in hospital, suffering from dementia, by now very severe, and her husband is not all that well, either. Thinking about her does put my woes into some sort of perspective. I am not going, as I think the train journeys would be far too long and uncomfortable for me, and not give me much scope for all the massaging, and bandaging that needs to be done. The following weekend I am supposed to be going to Melbourne to attend the 'wedding' ceremony of my niece who got married in Mexico a couple of years ago. She is going to wear a wedding dress. I don't know what she wore when she was married in Mexico.
It does not do to dwell on all these things, so I am about to curl up with a book. Tomorrow it might be a good idea to start the car and let the engine rev for a while - it would be aggravating to get a flat battery once I am able to drive again. Next week is full of medical appointments and physiotherapy. At least, I suppose, I can say there is never a dull moment. Sad, annoying, depressing, enjoyable, entertaining, interesting, challenging, puzzling, perplexing, but No, not dull.
It has been a bit of a rough week. However the lymphoedema physiotherapist did phone, giving me a cancellation appointment yesterday afternoon. She says the lymphoedema is quite severe, massaged the afflicted arm, explained how to do it, wrote the instructions, and bandaged the arm. This morning I had to unwrap it, do the massage and then re-bandage. It took quite some time. During the day the hand became quite swollen, which made me feel rather panicky. The physiotherapist telephoned me this afternoon to hear how I was managing, so that was helpful. But I must confess to feeling rather buffetted and bashed by fate and bad fortune. And I feel rather exhausted and downcast.
I did get to choir last night, a kind friend having driven me there. I took a taxi home. We are singing lots of Verdi choruses. Although I know most of them to listen to, singing them is quite another matter, due to the speed, and to the elision of the words. The choir friend who sits beside me told me her own health drama - she had a nasty bout of tachycardia (?) which sounds like the opposite of what I had.
It was good to have a sing. And the Italian classes have recommenced, and it was lovely to see everyone, even though much of the language allegedly in my head has been pushed aside by more recent events.
My brothers and sisters are all going to the country this weekend to help celebrate my older sister's golden wedding anniversary. She is permanently in hospital, suffering from dementia, by now very severe, and her husband is not all that well, either. Thinking about her does put my woes into some sort of perspective. I am not going, as I think the train journeys would be far too long and uncomfortable for me, and not give me much scope for all the massaging, and bandaging that needs to be done. The following weekend I am supposed to be going to Melbourne to attend the 'wedding' ceremony of my niece who got married in Mexico a couple of years ago. She is going to wear a wedding dress. I don't know what she wore when she was married in Mexico.
It does not do to dwell on all these things, so I am about to curl up with a book. Tomorrow it might be a good idea to start the car and let the engine rev for a while - it would be aggravating to get a flat battery once I am able to drive again. Next week is full of medical appointments and physiotherapy. At least, I suppose, I can say there is never a dull moment. Sad, annoying, depressing, enjoyable, entertaining, interesting, challenging, puzzling, perplexing, but No, not dull.
2 comments:
Hmm. Sometimes I quite like dull. That all sounds a bit rubbish.
As my family has discovered recently, it never rains but it pours. Figuratively at least, since Sydney and much of the state is very dry.
I hope things start looking better for you quickly.
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