So the UK doctor seemed to find it amusing that we turned up to see her on Monday with me in a brace and with crutches. Joy. I’m not laughing with her. She is kindly organising physio.

Anyway, the foot swelling is continuing to reduce slowly and increased painkillers are starting to take effect. If nothing else I sleep to at least 11.30 daily. However the foot benefits from bring elevated and looks far far better each morning until I start to move a bit when the swelling and the bruising comes up again.

However, I am starting to hate the crutches. Unwieldy things, they get in the way of everything. Simple things are impossible. Making a drink – you can make it but have to stand where you are to drink it because you cannot carry anything. Going to the bathroom requires a degree in acrobatics, and showering, well forget that one for now. In fact carrying anything is not possible unless you place it in a carrier bag (which swings and unbalances you) or stick it in a rucksack. I’m on the latter since yesterday when I managed to fall big style in the kitchen. A combination of wearing a sock on my good foot for warmth, a cardigan and a slight imbalance had me getting the crutches caught in the cardigan, my good foot slipping and wham, fell full tilt sideways on the bad side like a scene from a bad cartoon. Still, I kept my foot from damage (twit that I am) by landing my full body on the floor and head on the radiator. Ouch!

Mr Fogg, on arrival home looked bemused at my now bent left crutch. I think I landed on that too. Oh dear, hope the crutch stays intact else I’ll have to resort to crawling, mind that may end up safer.

So, the plan is to try to get my foot load bearing ASAP so I can start to get back on my feet ( very appropriate eh?), reduce the drugs and do physio. Simple. Now for another sleep..