Dear Mr Surgeon

Daisy is home for the Easter break.  BeAnne is very pleased to see her, in fact a little too pleased and I have been dumped.

Daisy tacked up Iacs and off they rode into the distance with me following her on foot, like I used to when she was 10 years old.

I must say, Mr Surgeon, that following on foot is very boring for 2 miles and I really do want to ride my horse who is 100% safe rather than look in the drains for non-existent frogspawn.

My life is very dreary, with little going on apart from a 2 mile trudge every day along the road, or sometimes into the hill.  I can’t sit and I can’t drive so I don’t actually go anywhere.

 

It is a total misnomer that you “sit” on a horse. I ride with very long stirrups so that if the horse mysteriously vanished, I would be left comfortably standing up. There is no actual pressure on my spine and riding helped my intolerable sciatica.  It was the only time during the day I didn’t hurt.  Also my horse has never trotted in his life so there is none of that up and down (posting) that others do, just a very gentle walk or flat tölt (see the film).

You did ask me not to ride until after the injections and I have had the injections so now I don’t know whether I can ride or not.  I hardly dare ask because I am worried you will say No again.  But if I don’t ask, I won’t know and I will go on looking for the mythical frogspawn in ditches forever.

Even BeAnne gets to ride.

 

She doubles up as an armrest too.

So please, Mr Surgeon, look at this rider, my eldest daughter.  This is the face of someone who hasn’t ridden for ages, having been studying at university for the last 12 weeks.  Look how happy she is.  Don’t you want me to be happy too?

Yours utterly depressed, if I am perfectly honest,

Frances

Yesterday we were covered in snow.

And it made everything look beautiful and clean, even BeAnne.  She loves snow and happily snowploughs her way through.

Wussums surprised me by coming out with us too.  I didn’t have him down for an all-weather kinda guy but he enjoyed himself and definitely wants to be part of our strange little family.

All exercise is good exercise and I hope he will lose some of his “widge”.  He went for miles with us on the old-dog walk which is specifically for my old lurcher who is finding life tough now.

The sky was beautiful with hints of blue and large masses of cloud.

Once home, we kissed some little noseys and I put the old dogs back in the house.

BeAnne and I set off for our “proper” walk to Watsness gate and back.  I need to keep walking and I am actually beginning to enjoy myself. I see it more as a routine rather than a chore.

So this is yesterday….

and this is today in exactly the same spot, give or take.

We pottered along.  Again, yesterday…..

and, today in the same spot.

The huge expanses of sky and the light change all the time and that makes Shetland magical.

So When folk ask me, what do you see in Shetland?  Here is my answer.

Even on the mundane daily dog/horse/physio (delete where applicable) walk, this is the most special place on earth.

The Donald has melted now and the mud is back.  Ho hum.

But the good news is that we have a bale.

Everyone is happy.

The snow has arrived big time.

So we called in all the horses and ponies to give them a feed as I have just about run out of silage, which is typical.

We tried on Taktur’s new-to-him rug for his après-work.  Of course, everyone, namely Indy PingPong, had to point and laugh but I think navy suits him and he looked very smart in it.

So we fed the lads and they were all very happy, calm and grateful with no fighting.  Our method is to spread buckets around the school and let them each find one.  There are a few spare for those that wander.  It works well as everyone has their space and, if bullied off, they can quickly and easily find another.

Taktur had his speshul grub outside with the chickens (that war is still not over).

Meanwhile, Jo and Fiona had a good idea.  Apparently this was the right kind of snow for a snowman construction.

While the dogs ran about….

…. Jo and Fiona came over all artistic.

The foundations were taking shape…..

… when I suddenly realised who it could possibly be.

Can you tell who it is yet?  Seriously, you don’t know?  I mean that is a very striking resemblance imho.

Donald Trump!  Complete with syrup, eyes and mouth full of ….. yup, it is exactly what you think it is!

The horses had finished their food so we herded them back into their field whereupon Haakon  and Indy went all stallion-esque with “what is that thing in our field?”

Taktur, of course, being the cool dude that he is, didn’t care and sauntered up to The Donald.

Thus the others felt that maybe the snowman wasn’t as scary as they first thought.  The sort of “you go and look first we are right behind you” attitude!

Hammy circled about snorting because he is that kind of, well for want of a better word, idiot!

But eventually, it didn’t take long for them all to realise that The Donald was in fact made of shit with an edible something on his head!

And so we left them to it, with the bebbies investigating further….

… while their father watched on with suprised bemusement!

I will admit to sending some of the photos of The Donald to The Daily Mail for their entertainment, only to receive the reply “Loving your work, however, they may be a bit much for the paper.”

Their loss imho!  We even got his profile right and everything.  Anywho, I laughed til I cried and as The Reader’s Digest has always said “Laughter is the Best Medicine”.

On Monday morning, I received a phone call from The Pain Clinic at our local hospital, Gilbert Bain Hospital, or GBH as it is colloquially known here.

The nice nurse said they had my referral from my GP and the anaesthetist was going away on holiday. My heart sank into my boots.  She then said but they had a spot for me…… tomorrow at 11.30am.  I jumped at the chance and, in an instant, accepted.

Then plans had to be made as to how I would get there – a 50 mile round trip – bearing in mind I cannot sit at all.  I rang my GP and was given the number of Patient Ambulance Transport where I spoke to a lovely lady who took all my details and then informed me that due to lack of resources they were unable to help.  I cried.

So, the question was how to get to GBH by 10.30 tomorrow morning lying flat on my back. I phoned Jo, my business partner and friend, who has a transit van.  I informed my GP and surgeon that this would have to be my chosen, though thoroughly illegal, mode of transport but there were no other options so “needs must when the Devil vomits in your kettle” as we say in this house.

Jo, of course, came to my rescue and arrived at my door with her van kitted out with a small mattress in the back.  I took my blanket, two hot water bottles and some Phenergan because it is a very sicky way to travel.

We chatted all the way there with me looking at the ceiling and clutching my hotties trying not to get more and more scared.

Apart from the on and off blizzard conditions, the roads were clear.

We arrived safely and Jo dropped me off saying she would return after she had done her messages in a couple of hours.

This is my you-have-no-idea-how-terrified-I-am face (and the diet begins tomorrow).

So, I went in and they did revolting things with needles to my spine and there was a lovely nurse who held my hand while they pumped neat gin into a vein and kept me off the ceiling.

A few hours later, Jo returned and took me back home with all her shopping.

Nursing staff were instantly on hand when I got back to my own bed.

They have been there to attend to my every whim and need.

100% devotion to the job, of course. Bless her, that’s my pillow!

I feel a bit sore but hopefully things will get better now.

I had my lunch with a Dalek.

It was delicious!

I put my kit on to go for my walk, went through the front door, turned around to see this black cloud looming at my washing on the line.

So, quick change of plan and I shot back in to take all my washing down.  Back out again on the second attempt, with a few more layers on, only to see the ponies covered in a light sprinkling of snow.  Better ponies than washing were my thoughts.

I was just wondering whether I could’ve been warmer when the looming clouds just vanished and turned into blue sky again.  Most odd.

My little fluff-balls instantly melted and looked like they were covered in diamonds (but sadly, they weren’t).

And so off we went, Haakon, BeAnne and I on the usual walk.

We admired the scenery and I went a bit artistic!

The sky did a bit more looming so Haakon, BeAnne and I made a quick bolt for home.

Haakon has a new trick now.  If BeAnne is drifting along aimlessly in front of him, he boots her up her bum with his nose.  She was severely dischuffed with this – he did it to her twice  – and I fear revenge will be a dish best served cold, knowing her.  Like Jack, she doesn’t forgive or forget.  Must be a Patterdale terrier thing.

Anywho, hospital for me next.  I will tell all when I know all but I doubt there will be a blog tomorrow.  Think of me.  Please. xx