I’ve had a really good day today and I thought I’d write it all down before I get grumpy or cheesed off about the weather or something like that.
Good thing 1
The nurse who came to change the bandage on my foot turned out to be Karen. All the nurses I’ve met are lovely but I hadn’t seen Karen for ages and it was really nice to catch up with her. Also, the other nurses had told me she’d been off sick with a bad cold so it was nice to know she’s well again.
Good thing 2
The actual bandage change was virtually painless and the wound looked good, i.e. very little dead skin to clean off. All the nurses are gentle but certain ones prefer the “whip it off quick” method of removing the bottom layer of dressing whereas Karen is a definite “do it slowly using saline to loosen the sticky bits” person, so I barely felt a thing.
Good thing 3
I tried out a profiling bed I’m hoping to get - my occupational therapist is working like mad to make it a reality as it costs quite a bit more than other beds, i.e. 6000GBP as opposed to the usual 1500GBP or so.
As you can see from the pictures (if you selected the link) it actually lifts your legs in and out of bed - this is ideal for me as whilst I can get my legs off the bed (after N has sat me up) it is impossible for me to get them into bed in the first place. This means that either I have to go to bed at the same time as N or she has to wait up for me if I’m in the middle of something.
The tryout itself was excellent - the bed is well comfy and does exactly what I’d hoped it would, i.e. give me complete independence as far as getting into and out of bed is concerned.
Good thing 4
The place where I tried the bed is a new “Connect” centre in Kidderminster town centre. Not only is it new, shiny and a place for crips to meet and use the facilities, it has a toilet that is a) larger than my lounge; b) available 24 hours a day to card holders and, most excellently, c) equipped with a tracking hoist! Fantastic! I have a RADAR key but I still need two people to help me use a public toilet: one to lift me onto and off the toilet itself and the other to whip my trousers and boxers down and up. A toilet with a tracking hoist means that not only can I go for a whizz on my own but I can go out and about with anyone who can push my chair, i.e. I don’t need two people, one of whom is muscular.
Good thing 5
N cooked me chicken and chips for tea.