More Prattle from Povey

 No Victorian Underwear  No Holy Socks An undershirt; a computer cable; a scrap of paper with notes on it;  a much needed belt. It's a wonder that it was retrievable.

  Four hospital rooms in two weeks.   Being moved from room to room is not good for the soul.  It is very bad for the soul.  It disorientates the mind.  Rooms with all white walls are also dangerous. I lost more than half of my personal  hospital clothing in the moves: tee shirts, underwear, walking shorts Ah well, put him in a Johnnie, that'll do.   The crowning blow was when one martinet threw away my old clothes and bag,  (saving only my iPhone charger) What I lost on the swings I gained on the roundabout. When I was in the surgical recovery a nurse handed me a boot, saying "put this on".  Then she disappeared, leaving no instruction as to use.  The boot followed me home. I prefer Skechers! Never mind,   The home based visiting therapist will find good use for it, 'specially because my  right leg is  horribly swollen with edema,

 HOSPITAL SOCKS ARE THE BEST

  In the U.S.A  we pay  for EMT/Ambulance service Hold tight,  In  a day or two I'll  refer you to the historical reason/quirk behind this

 The saga started at the Sarasota Memorial Hospital's Wound Clinic.  A small lesion on my right leg was healing well;  but the big toe was wildly inflamed and infected. Thus followed surgery for that; with a bonus -  the long overdue insertion of a stent from my heart  to my right leg.   On one of my furloughs I was sent home bearing a Jackson-Pratt drainage machine with instructions for its use. Grrh   a plastic tube broke loose as I slept,  causing a flood in my sleep wear etc.   Fortunately that was the day for a nurse to be at my home. Back at the Hospital I was not a particularly good boy.  When given the choice between going home or having therapy I always chose to go home. On one occasion I chose home.   No sooner had I been there I fell into a sense of deep loneliness. I went back to the hospital where I had to be treated as a new patient.   I had allowed my stubborn will to override my good sen...

  Mr Cooper and I were able spend times today (morning and  afternoon  at the 17th St Dog Park.  My short walks were useful in the healing journey.  Cooper ran amuck as I rested.  Good for Coop and good for me   BUT NOT GREAT I  had a wrangle with my therapy clinic.   The clinic placed me in a (sporadic and irregular ) program  for frequent fallers.  I am not such.   I need a progamme for daily steps t'ward full recovery. in a broad scope    We'll find one soon! jmp