If it hadn't been for a major backward somersault, the last week had a few main moonwalk moments. I felt a lot of pain in my left limbs throughout Sunday. When listening to my chest, Barbara heard a distinct and very worrying rattling sound. Unfortunately, the duty doctor was unable to hear this. Dr Roberts, the unit doctor, agreed with Barbara's findings and hastily arranged a CT scan on Monday. CT scan The CT scan is an unnerving experience, akin to sitting inside a tumble dryer and requiring a cannula for intravenous injection of dyes. Some of Barbara's fears were confirmed when it was revealed that I had bilateral lung clots. Potentially, these could have been fatal. Dr Roberts assures me that this is just a minor blip on my road to recovery. I hope she is right. Naturally, the treatment for these clots includes more tablets for a minimum period of six months and frequent blood tests to check the thickness of my blood. Physiotherapy goals Circumstances restricted the amount of physiotherapy in the first half of the week, although we did have a goal-setting meeting on Tuesday. At that meeting we set the dual objectives of safely using the assisted bathroom and working towards safe transfer into the car. I am quite happy using the assisted bathroom, which minimizes embarrassing situations. Karen Sparkles, one of the other physiotherapists, has been really helpful this week. She found time to listen to my woes in response to the blood clots and has now found a battery-operated wheelchair for me to borrow. The wheelchair is an amazing piece of equipment, although they are not as easy to operate as one may think. I had an intensive two-hour physiotherapy session on Friday afternoon. During this session, I managed to walk, with great difficulty, the length of the parallel bars (about 10 hesitant steps). This helps to foster the belief that I will be able to walk again at some future stage. Chip heaven We should have flown to Shetland on Tuesday for the Folk Festival. I must confess to a constant feeling of regret and resentment at missing this spectacular occasion. Still, there is always next year. Isn't there? After intensive practice and coaching, I have navigated the route to Rafters restaurant - the hospital canteen. Yesterday, I was treated to a plate of chips, smothered in salt, pepper, vinegar and brown sauce. Heaven! Sparkles even showed me a way to get toothpaste onto the brush and clean my teeth using my wrong hand. Everyone should, at some stage, try carrying out routine functions using the wrong hand exclusively. Shaving, eating, and teeth-cleaning is very clumsy and inefficient. Have a go for a day and let me know of your experiences. Imagine - I have the prospect of having to do things this way for the rest of my life. Very, very scary. I have been promised extra physiotherapy this week with the prospect of getting into the gym. If that happens, I look forward to retelling adventures and successes. | 
