Blog 76 - Patchy



I promised last week that my scarf would decide to which destination we would fly with the magic carpet. It has decided to ground me, presenting yours truly with a very patchy week indeed. Pre-Christmas lunches and exotic Persian cuisine are now long forgotten. I have a vivid imagination but never did I think I would have such an extraordinary week. Were I a TV script writer, the plot would be a mixture of Faulty Towers, Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em and Casualty!



But, first I must describe my silk scarf. Previously owned and loved, slightly faded through incorrect laundering, it is a large square, printed as patchwork with an overlay of hand embroidery. It was made in India and sold in the Royal Academy of Arts. The mosaic pattern is in muted sweet pea shades. It was my intention to visit the RA a couple of weeks ago, but instead I had a great day out with my friend investigating 16 Grosvenor Street on what was the last day of freedom from the onslaught of Omicron. The following tale demonstrates how we must all make the most of each day. Undoubtedly, there will be many different patches in life for us all.



I suppose the first clue to great variety in one week was the gradual temperature change of my domestic hot water. I had thought it was due to multiple occupancy of my home with a family visit and increased showering. The truth dawned. We had only cold water. OK. I was used to that as a young child. It felt as if I had changed from blog writer to Airbnb operator as my family of four left, and a different family trio moved in. The first floor drawing room, which had been a work station for two young computer whiz kids working from home on my bridge table, was now to become convalescent quarters for another granddaughter recovering from an eye operation. Just imagine minutes before she was due to leave for her clinic, I had a freak accident. One step from the dining table and, without even falling to the ground, I fractured my right foot. Of course I didn’t know that at the time. Instant icing with a bag of frozen beans by the prospective laser surgery patient, leg elevated.…No need for too many details. Two visits to different hospitals over two days and now I am destined to live on my ground floor for twelve weeks, not weight bearing on elephantine foot.



Still only cold water. Now central heating packs up. My trusty boiler man has a chest infection and unable to attend. Have back up fan heater, hot water bottle. Resident females do a DIY job on central heating after two chilly days. Brilliant. Warm again.…. Now, the next challenge …..how to get me to a third hospital on one leg for injections in both my eyes for AMD. Still have only cold water. Booked an ambulance to transport me. It now gets really funny.



I have to be carried out in a wheelchair and mounted up a ramp to large ambulance. Driver agreed my daughter could come along. Strapped in wheelchair, I now take a fit of giggling as the driver exclaims the ambulance door has come off its hinge. I did say it was a scenario for a TV farce. Now had visions of a breakdown truck rescuing the ambulance. Resourceful daughter found one of my long bamboo chopsticks I use for cooking stir fries and managed to get door hinge in place. Together they replaced the door. Set off with chopstick in readiness for further incidents. I have now donated this useful gadget to the NHS.



Transferred to hospital wheelchair which was missing a brake on one side. Very dodgy. Had to be wheeled backwards. Again no need for details on treatment problems. Let’s just say there are other things I’d rather do than have my eyes jabbed. Return journey by different ambulance….. Hallelujah ….in good working order. Having welcome cuppa, then my carer daughter and her husband both notified they had been tracked and traced as being in vicinity of Covid!! I don’t have that app, so who knows about me? Temporarily half blind and lame, I am now feeling like a biblical character in need of a miracle. I believe in miracles.



Mine is beginning with a wonderful deep sleep in my bed, quite out of place in what used to be my elegant dining room. Then early next morning my boiler man sends his wonderful son who replaces an electrical part in a switching box and....oh!…..the luxury of hot water again! Next I find out I will unexpectedly have the pleasure of my younger daughter’s company over Christmas as they cancelled their Madeira holiday to help with my care temporarily. Offers of help from family, good friends and neighbours. Beautiful patches….. At least I am not a celebrity dancer like AJ in Strictly Come Dancing who has injured her right foot exactly like me as she goes into the Grand Final. I can still write and I have the tee shirt bearing Frieda Kahlo’s words. “Feet, what do I need them for, if I have wings to fly?”



So, sorry folks to fail on a carpet journey this week. I have been saving my last Hermes scarf for next week’s Christmas blog, and I may have to break all the rules to get to France since the border is closed to the Brits. I am just hoping the trusty carpet will stand the extra weight of a Zimmer frame. I may even aim for warmer Asian climes if I can’t sneak into Paris.



In the meantime, I wish all my readers a happy Christmas and if you look on the www.busybeehazell.com site, there is an additional fictional Christmas tale I have written for all age groups. The only scarf in sight is Santa’s and he isn’t bothered about hand rolled edges!



Busy Bee, Scarf Face!

Series 2, Blog 76.

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