Tomorrow will mark six weeks since my accident. That’s a remarkably long time for a blogger to go just seven posts, but there you go: I suppose I can count one a week for Charity Shop Tourism as well. As it turns out, spending six weeks mostly sitting down at home is not nearly as boring as you might imagine: rather than the tedious, murder-spotting bed-rest one might imagine from Rear Window, I’ve actually had a lovely time, indulging in plenty of lovely spring things like sitting in the park with a flask of coffee; feeling like Edmund Hillary for walking to Wood Green and back; coffee on the outside seats of a cafe in Highgate; and so on. It’s also been remarkably productive, by my standards: not only have I got some reading, film-watching and study done, yesterday I managed to list about 50 things on Amazon Marketplace ( if you want to buy anything of mine, go to my Amazon store, there’s some good stuff) as well as write a first draft of my personal statement for my application to a Masters, and so on.

Tomorrow I’ll see the doctor at the Whittington hospital for an x-ray and general look-over. I’ll find out how long I need to keep using my crutches; how much weight I can put on my bad leg now; and most pertinently, when I’ll have to go back to work. It’ll be six weeks tomorrow since I last set foot in the office, and I’m really not in the mood to go back. I imagined that by the end of these six weeks I’d be gagging to get back – not the case. I want to stay at home and do more at home stuff. I want to watch Frasier every morning and Becker every lunchtime; I want to break up my productive spells with bursts of Civilization; I want to keep on going to the caf for lunch.

Thankfully (in a funny way) I don’t really feel ready to go back – I still get plenty of yowches when I turn too quickly, or land on my left foot. I still haven’t tried a bus yet, let alone a tube, which are the two alternatives to get to the office (either a 90 minute ride on the 243, or a slog to Turnpike Lane to sit, hopefully, on a crowded train). Given that the physiotherapists had me walking just a few hours after my operation I’m really not sure what the answer will be tomorrow, but fingers crossed eh?


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