Up The Farway Tree

Well the good news is that I survived the wedding (and, more surprisingly, the car journey down with dad largely driving in the fast lane, muttering to cars in front "get out of the big boys lane"). The bad news is that I'm now running a temperature despite a week of oral antibiotics. Since I am not home until Friday I have managed to procure some extra oral antibiotics to add to ones I'm already taking, so hopefully that will settle things. In a rare and surprisingly sensible moment I did actually phone the CF team to discuss the course of action I had already decided upon. If only to be polite.

The wedding itself was fantastic, and after a week of torrential rain, they had the most beautiful sunshine. The bride was gorgeous, the meal was lovely and the speeches were all excellent. I even managed a dance at one point, but only because my 8yr old godson came up and tapped my shoulder and politely enquired whether I would like to dance with him. How could I refuse such a gentleman? That being said, this is the same 8yr old that later in the evening was seen to be cutting some moves with two of the brides friends and on leaving the dancefloor turned to his dad and gloated "hey, I've just pulled two hot chicks". Priceless.

I'm just planning to take things easy this week, although we did go to a big shopping outlet yesterday which sells everything from furniture to clothing. In my usual stubborn manner I simply scoffed when my mum suggested using one of the shops wheelchairs since I wasn't feeling well, and purposefully strode around the shop...for about 5 minutes before in a puffed and bedraggled fashion I finally collapsed on a seat in the shoe department, where I intended to stay until we were ready to leave. After 10mins sitting staring at the size 6 rail in front of me (and I'm a size 4) I finally conceded to being wheeled about in a princess like fashion around the store. My dad was pushing me, and bearing in mind what I've already said about 'big boys lane' I was apprehensive to say the least ;) I did however find that it didn't really affect my retail therapy, in that bags and shoes are conveniently placed at eye level from a sitting position. The wheelchair is therefore entirely to blame for the shoes and bag that made its way to the checkout. I was in no way responsible. I also found when I was parked in a corner while the others looked at some rugs, that I could in fact manoeuvre the chair myself and in the short interval taught myself how to do a 360 degrees turn. I was about to progress to wheelies but sadly I was moved on to the coffee shop before I got the chance, where I found myself squealing "Its a miracle" when we parked the chair and I then stood up and walked unaided. Not particularly PC, but it amused me.

I can laugh about the wheelchair, and it really did help me keep up with everyone else. However, it was a huge psychological wrench to admit that I was struggling to walk and that I actually needed someone else to help me get around. I have this fixed idea in my head about pushing myself to my limits and never, ever giving in. I hate even being wheeled to xray in hospital and have walked back to the ward on many occasions (nipping out of the chair when the xray staff aren't looking;)) I think its so important that whenever possible, I walk places and keep up with some form of exercise (even if this is just running after Seb to get my pants back) Not only will this keep me as healthy as possible now, it will also aid a much speedier recovery post transplant. That being said, I think I also have to concede that on occasions when I'm not so well, I may need some extra help; as the other option is to miss out entirely. At the moment I have no intention of being wheeled about back home (I save wild antics for holidays only) but at some point in the future, I might need to consider this as an option for days out. Maybe I could get one of those motorised ones? I would be very safe and sensible when operating such a beast. I only have 6 penalty points on my current license. That's not bad is it?