Lost in translation …

I’ve not been able to get my head round the treatment prescribed for Rosemary’s cracked femur. I’ve never heard of someone having six weeks bed rest for this, why not just pin it? Today at Rafael Mendez Hospital all became clear.

The ambulance to take Rosemary to her appointment was late and there was only the driver, despite John’s earlier phone calls to say this was a two-person job. Rosemary is on bedrest lying flat, one person cannot manage to put her on a stretcher and carry her down the steps she so recently fell down. A second person was summoned and we waited for him to arrive, we were by now late for her X-ray appointment. Finally a second ambulance came and the driver helped to get Rosemary boarded. Arriving at X-ray she was taken straight in and photographed and we were down at the trauma clinic just in time for that appointment. A rather good looking, shall we say mature but gert lush, as is said in the West Country, doctor informed us that the large haematoma (huge swollen bruise) above her fibula was not masking a break and the 2 fractures of her pelvis were looking OK, no further movement of the left inferior or superior pelvic rami! All suddenly became became clear to Rosemary and I – bedrest being the standard treatment for a fractured pelvis – no wonder they hadn’t pinned her femur!! Something obviously went wrong in the original translation …

She must continue totally non-weight bearing but is now allowed to sit up for short periods. He will see her again in 2 weeks and hopefully one week after that she should be allowed to start mobilising slowly. I shall stay until her next appointment but shortly after will have to start wending my way home for R0X1’s first MOT appointment.

In the meantime the temps continue in the high thirties and I’m grateful for the pool …

 

 

🙂 🙂 🙂

The Patient is surviving my care (just)

The run down from Avignon to Lorca went very smoothly – even tho’ for the first time I regretted not forking out 2 grand for air-con in R0X1. I did it in two days with the overnight stop in Torredembarra, almost the halfway point, for once using the toll roads as it made the journey much quicker. My arrival was greeted especially well as I was 24 hours earlier than promised.

I’m happy to report that Rosemary is improving every day. She remains on bed rest at least until she has had her hospital appointment next Wednesday. Apparently the femur is not completely broken but has a significant crack. She also has the most enormous bruise and swelling over her fibula that I’ve ever seen. We’re unsure whether there may be bone damage underneath or if the heparin she’s on to prevent clots whilst she’s bed bound has caused a minor trauma to look worse than it really is. Either way the bed rest is probably the best treatment.

She is is incredibly good spirits bless her and has agreed to stop thanking me if I agree to stop saying sorry every time I make her wince!!

Phenomenally hot here and enjoying the evening cool off in the pool …

Views from the veranda

🙂 🙂 🙂

Change of plan.

My regular reader will be totally unsurprised by the unscheduled change of destination. My excuses are as follows. Some and/or none may apply;

1) I got fed up waiting for the lavender fields to bloom.

2) It’s just too hot here.

3) I’ve fallen out with Meriam and Paul and gone off in a huff.

4) Daisy and Cookie had a huge fight and we had to separate them.

5) I’ve un-retired again.

Hola Espana!

Suffice to say, it was a long and hot journey from Pont-du-Gard to Torredembarra today. Totally surprised by the staff here recognising me after almost 2 years, but they did, immediately! It’s a worry.

Well done to those who guessed 5, except P&M and R who already knew. I’m on my way down to Lorca and about to don the uniform again as my dear friend Rosemary has taken a tumble and broken her leg, bumsy clugger. It’s as good an excuse for her to just sit around sipping G&T as any other I’ve heard! I’ve got the superglue for the broken bone, the enemas for any analgesia induced constipation, flannels and bowl for bed baths, rectal thermometer and the all important safety pins attached to my apron.

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Looks like the legs have been in danger for a while!

P’raps I should add a Red Cross to R0X1’s new decals … ooh, and a blue light so I can exceed speed limits …

🙂 🙂 🙂

 

What did the Romans ever do …?

Well for the Gauls in and around Orange (which of course wasn’t called Orange at the time, it’s ancient name was Arusio) in the first century CE, the Romans built a triumphal arch to celebrate their own brave soldiers who conquered the Gauls. And in the fourth century they built themselves a nice theatre which doubtless the poor hapless Gauls didn’t get to go to as they were too busy being slaves.

Amazing stuff tho’ and the theatre is actually in use tonight for a free rock gig. When I was there yesterday the roadies were busy setting up.

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Paul, Meriam, the two dogs and I are off to see more Roman architecture tomorrow, the Pont-du-Gard, it’s really more about cooling off beside the river! Temp here today was possibly in excess of 35℃, the sun is down now and it’s still 29 – hoping it cools down some more or I won’t sleep tonight. Can’t believe I’m whinging about the heat …

🙂 🙂 🙂

 

A (small) change of opinion

Moving day again and Orange (the French town, not the fruit, nor the mobile phone company) and the Roman remains were calling. But Mt. Ventoux was calling too, so I came the slightly long way round to Orange.

I do know how to pick ‘em tho’; wrong days, that is. Not only was there a cycle event going on on the route de Ventoux, there was also some kind of hiking event. In the UK the route would’ve been shut to traffic – but this is France and we all muddled along regardless. Safety elves? – stuff ‘em! Cyclists overtaking hikers (some of whom were running …), motorists overtaking cyclists, hikers/runners with motorbikes weaving about in between; then there was the huge truck with an equally huge trailer hauling a double load of trees complete with police escort! I love this country – it’s totally mad, bonkers, off piste!

The summit of Ventoux, at 6,263 ft, was a tad cold and windy and necessitated additional clothing somewhat rapidly. I’ve never been that high before and found the experience exhilarating, amazing and, with that wind, literally breath taking. I can understand why people climb mountains, the feeling at the top is indescribable – and I only drove it (it was a bit hairy at times). And those views …

I have to admit to the greatest of admiration for those hardy souls who walked, ran and/or cycled, not all of them athletic spring chickens either. I apologise to some cyclists for the rant in my previous blog, but only to those whose attitudes were very, to coin a phrase, “cycle and let drive”; indicating when it was safe for me to overtake and getting in single file to let motorists pass.

So far in Orange we’ve seen the ancient Roman triumphal arch (almost as old as you BB). Tomorrow is a visit to the theatre, amphitheatre that is. And excitement later as I shall be joined by Meriam, Paul and Daihatsu Curore, previously known as Cookie, as that was what could’ve been bought for the same price as her two cruciate ligament ops!!

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🙂 🙂 🙂

P.S. I’ve since found out it was a charity event in aid of Motor Neurone Disease. Well done to all!

Parked with the enemy

Monday was moving day. Unfortunately I’d forgotten that it was a holiday weekend, so on arrival at the chosen destination there were only two pitches left. One wasn’t big enough for R0X1 so I took the other. It was too hot to find another campsite having already waited ages for the market to clear the street before I could get to the site, so I made do with the sloping pitch under the pine trees next to the road. After a not very comfortable night, the ramps needed to be twice as big to level out R0X1 and earplugs might’ve helped with the noise, I made up my mind that I wouldn’t bother with the promised pitch change in the morning; I’d change site. However the pitch offered the next day was level, not surrounded by the dreaded pine trees (I don’t know what it is about pine trees but I find being amongst them claustrophobic and depressing) and away from the sporadically noisy road.

I’m parked amongst the enemies tho’. This site is full of mountain bikers, the ones who arrogantly assume they own the road and have the helmet cameras to prove that it is not their fault that they were speeding down the centre of the road or slowly in a dense pack going up it. This is Mont Ventoux country and the little town of Bédoin has almost more bike shops, bike accessory shops and bike clothing shops than it has cafés, bars and restaurants. Bédoin’s probably the capital of Ventoux country being on the route up and around the mountain. Don’t get me wrong, there are some “ordinary” cyclists here that I very much admire also “doing” the route. However given LWD’s nervousness around bikes I shall probably make the stay here fairly short and after I’ve driven to the summit, because I’m sensible and conserve my energies for pressing shutters, changing lenses/filters etc., we’ll be moving on.

The blurb says this site is at the foot of Mt. Ventoux. Why do we say at the foot of a mountain? I’ve seen no sign of Ventoux’s footwear or bare toes, nails varnished or not! Lovely views tho’ and some nice walks along paths that the bikers aren’t interested in.

Today LWD and I are enjoying an apparently only brief respite from the very hot weather. It’s only 21℃ – I’ve had to put my cardi on …

🙂 🙂 🙂

Cale-moi et laisse-moi tranquille!

I’m having a couple of “domestic” days before we move on, on Monday. Heading for the hills to see if it’s a tad cooler, LWD is suffering a little at the moment. So whilst the washing is in the machine I thought I’d share an Encounter I had in Avignon.

I needed to pop into the post office for a few minutes and tied LWD up outside, as one does. A minute later I was minding my business looking for a suitable envelope when I was accosted by a French woman who demanded to know if it was my dog tied up outside. I admitted same and she proceeded to harangue me in French faster than I could understand but I managed to interrupt her flow long enough to ask (in French) if Daisy was OK and understood her confirmation of this fact, but none of the rest of the continuation of the harangue. I told her I’m English. She dashed off asking all and sundry if they spoke English and when she’d found someone, dragged her over to me and demanded a translation of her complaints. I still wasn’t quite sure whether she was telling me it was against the law to leave Daize unattended but I thanked her for her concern and said  that I understood just to shut her up so I could get on with my business.

Unprepared to leave it at that, she informed me she would watch LWD. I did my best at a Gallic shrug and said that was fine if that was what she wanted to do. I continued to conduct my business – bear in mind that poor Daize has now been left a lot longer than she would’ve been had the woman just minded her own business. But she still couldn’t leave it alone and as soon as I got back outside to Daize she started all over again. I thanked her again and tried, unsuccessfully, to get away; only for an exact repeat of what went before; she harangued me; she accosted embarrassed passers by until she found one to translate for her (I felt so sorry for the lass she grabbed, as my facial expression made it quite obvious that I was by this time quite pissed off; the lass’s apologetic smile told me my sentiments were shared). I still didn’t quite get it but I think the gist was (and this is for you JJ) that I was a very “irresponsible dog owner” and LWD might’ve been stolen! Eventually the overwrought, and by now nearly exhausted, woman realised it was well past time she went. She wandered off with her latest translator and her companions, whom I’m certain she didn’t know from Adam (or his French equivalent), now haranguing them!

I checked Google translate for “sod off and leave me alone” … !

The tranquil Sorgue at the campsite last evening

🙂 🙂 🙂