19th January 2009

The weather has continued its icy vendetta against us all, with bone-numbing cold and hard overnight frosts. The wood burner has officially earned its place as Best Purchase of the Decade, and I’m quietly smug about having stacked enough logs to see us through until the next Ice Age or, failing that, spring.

Frozen rugby pitches have meant cancelled fixtures and, tragically, no refereeing duties for me on recent Saturdays. As a result, the post-Christmas padding (courtesy of excessive festive indulgence) stubbornly lingers like an unwelcome guest.

However, last Saturday brought a surprise. Although my original game was once again cancelled, I was reappointed to a veterans’ match in Leicester, and thank goodness. The pace was delightfully sedate, perfectly in sync with my current lack of fitness. After a month off, I expected to pull something (possibly everything), but I emerged unscathed. A 12-12 draw was the cherry on the cake, a result everyone could smile about, mostly because nobody had to sprint.

Meanwhile, the family outpatient department, a.k.a. ‘Willow Bank’, has been running at full capacity.

Nan was whisked back to Rotherham General to check on her wrist. The cast came off, physio was prescribed, and her recovery was described as ‘remarkable’ (a nod to my top-notch in-house nursing skills, naturally). The nurse commended my care and told Nan she was lucky to have such an attentive son. Nan looked unconvinced and muttered something about Stockholm Syndrome. I returned her to Harborough via Newark, and, much to her displeasure, arranged for her physiotherapy to happen locally. Safety first. Popularity later.

Before this grand medical tour, Sue had a second bout of pleurisy and was prescribed even more antibiotics. Upon returning, she looked even worse, covered in rashes, lumps, spots, aches, and accompanied by a headache that could stop traffic. A swift visit to the doctor brought yet more pills, which, thankfully, sorted her out. I did suggest, helpfully, that her allergic reaction may have been due to my absence… since she clearly improved once I returned. She did not laugh. I’m still updating my CV to include ‘Nurse’, and possibly ‘Martyr’.

Sarah has contracted a nasty case of Exam Fever. Symptoms include sharp mood swings, emotional outbursts, and sudden tetchiness at literally any topic raised. We’ve learned to speak softly, avoid all subjects entirely, and leave snacks at her door. Thankfully, it’s seasonal and should pass by the end of July.

Jamie is suffering from being nineteen. It’s terminal until he turns twenty. Current symptoms include selective deafness, frequent zoning out, and a complete inability to communicate in anything longer than a grunt. Treatment options are limited, but we’re optimistic for a full recovery in due course.

Charlotte, Suraj, and young Lucas are all in surprisingly rude health, or at least they looked well when Nan and I popped in on the return leg from Rotherham. Either that or they’re good at hiding things.

Today was cold and wet, which I took as a sign to kick-start my new fitness regime. I rose early, leapt onto the bike, and pedalled flat-out for 26 minutes. I didn’t die. In fact, it was considerably gentler on the joints than running. I may even do it again. Daily, I say. Weekly, I suspect.

To round things off, I bought Sue a Garmin Satnav from Amazon; she’d asked for one at Christmas, but I wisely held off, assuming prices would drop in January (they did, hurrah!). Whether it actually works remains to be seen… but at least it came with a charger, which is more than I can say for Jamie at the moment.