I ♥ my husband and ♥♥♥ bath

Is it just me or has any one else noticed the number of words linked to outside advertising (credit bureaus or 'eye'pad competitions)? Your words gentlefolk are being hijacked by others to advertise their wares - I don't think it is right? Do you? Any ideas how to complain and stop them?? I was just reading a favourite blog of mine and in one paragraph there was about 12 words all hyper-linked and only one of them was an actual blog owned link, all the rest were sneak-adverts - that is cheating and not on!

Rant over (for now)

Today's heart is one for my dear husband, who has been looking after me so so wonderfully and unquestionably since I initially hurt my knee and latterly post surgically and with added crutches.

It's the little things he does that makes the difference, like setting up my crochet and computer corner with extra cushions, cats (they come and go as they please) and brings me home yarns (by the bag load) to play with. Sigh, what a happy crochet with crutches girly I am.

Today was no exception - only this time the tail (yes tail not tale) needs a little introduction.

As I was being wheeled out of the hospital the nurse gave me dire warnings about not removing the bandaging, not getting it wet, not fiddling with the dressings etc etc etc until I was seen by my surgeon at a post operative appointment. In my slightly groggy state I readily agreed. (That was on Friday afternoon)

Friday evening I dozed and napped due to the anaesthetic effect until it was bed time where I then snoozed the remaining narcotic effect off.

Saturday I awoke, feeling a little sore (the painkillers had obviously worn off by now) and my bandage was a bit awry. Remembering the stark warnings by the nurse, I carefully (coz it hurt) repositioned the bandage which covered my leg from lower calf to above my knee.

By Saturday lunch it had slipped and I beginning to look like Nora Batty. This time gentle persuasion would not put the bandage in place. I was also beginning to feel the need for a shower or a bath and was wondering how to get around the 'do not under any circumstances get your bandage wet' threat.

Hmmm. Being an ex-veterinary nurse I thought I could wrap the bandage better than it's present condition. But still being a 'good girl' left it as I could still hear the nurse's strict words ringing in my ears about being in the surgeon's bad books.

By Sunday - the bandage was lingering like shed snake's skin around my right ankle exposing the gross yellow iodine my leg was sporting along with a crudely drawn black arrow in marker pen. I was definitely feeling grubby and in a fit of defiance I removed the bandage (carefully so not to give it away!) leaving the blue iodine stained dressing the size of a baby's nappy still stuck to my knee. I hobbled to the bathroom and had a glorious granny bath (insert image here: standing on one leg, waving other around carefully, whilst slathering a carefully soaped up sponge on bits that needed slathering!)
Bliss.
So feeling a little cleaner, I re-wrapped the bandage and confident in the knowledge I would be able to replace it and no one would be the any wiser (I'd even left the graffiti arrow and fetching yellow leg to help with the deception) It fell down.
I re-wound it, a little tighter, a different method and hardly moved my leg. Yup - got it done.
It fell down.
By Monday, I wanted to wash my hair so hung upside down in the bath using the shower head - not good, my knee let me know that this was NOT TO HAPPEN AGAIN, so flummoxed, in pain and dripping (with smug bandage draped around my ankle) I went downstairs and bemoaned my fate to my dear man.

After lots of laughing at me (although he insists he was laughing with me) he suggested that he put a small seat in the bath and I get in and wash that way. Brilliant I cried, but that didn't solve the gravitational attraction the bandage had with my foot.

Take it off he offered and just replace it the day we have to go back to the surgeon. I liked this rather naughty idea and quickly removed the offending piece of medical cloth. My knee hurt. It needed the swaddling pressure a bandage gives so I had to think again.
Tuesday was a pretty 'static' day with only the hook and the key board doing any exercise so the bandage reluctantly stayed put, only threatening to slip when ever I hobbled off to the loo (that in itself is another story but not one here I wish to share but it involves a chemical loo, a pile of bricks and the front door!!)

When my dear H came home I once again bemoaned my lack of bathing, feeling the need for more than a casual flick of a moist flannel. So he collected up a stool and a non-slip mat and took them to the bathroom for me - ooooh!!

This morning, after getting all the boys out of the house, I went up to the bathroom (well, I tripodded it up - me and one crutch - deep joy) put the non-slip mat in with the stool on it and turned on the taps. The steam curled up and the sound of the splashing water was absolutely devine. I squished in copious quantities of a chrimbly present of mango bath creme - I WAS GOING TO ENJOY THIS!!

I went in to the bedroom to remove the bandage (now sporting the original hospital applied tape as well as yards of masking tape to help maintain a hoisted up position) and when I returned to the bathroom - I found this.......

Seems I'm not the only one looking forward to bubbles and hot water!