Herself is back.
I got the call on Thursday from the hospital to say they had had enough of her and could I please take her away. So I took the spin up the motorway to find her dumped outside the front door of the hospital. There were sounds of joy and rejoicing from within.
She is very impressed with the new car and commented on how comfortable it is. I was puzzled for a moment until I realised she hadn’t seen it or been in it since I bought it last August.
Yesterday we had a visit from the local Occupational Therapist to check up on progress. Before she arrived she phoned to clarify matters. Did we want her to talk to us from the garden or would she be let into the room? Did we have face masks? Would we be happy actually meeting someone face to face [but “socially distant” of course]. I told her I didn’t give a damn what she wore, that she wouldn’t see much from the garden and we didn’t mind anyone calling.
She duly arrived and kitted herself out in on the lawn. She then handed me two masks [she had to infringe “social distancing” to do so. I suppose she could have thrown them at me, but maybe she has a bad aim?] So we duly put on our masks. My glasses promptly steamed up. We were told to keep the horrible things and to wear them any time anyone calls. Fat fucking chance.
So the OT has decided that we are grand [I told her that several times on the phone] and that we don’t need the heavy monstrosity that was delivered [I had told her that too] so that is to be returned next week. At least we’ll be able to walk around the place again after it’s gone.
So life has returned to normal here at The Manor.
And the masks are in the bin.