We went to his 60th birthday party last Saturday – they moved from a large house to a smaller bungalow just round the corner from us. And I’ve just heard that he has had a fall and broken his ankle. This is pretty serious of course because he now has terribly poor circulation. In addition, he mustn’t put weight on it but he hasn’t the strength in his arms to bear his weight on crutches. Even worse, his wife has hurt her own ankle while walking their dog, a young and boisterous golden retriever.
I’ve phoned and left a message – she’s probably at the hospital. I’ve offered to walk the dog for as long as necessary. I don’t mean one long walk, obv, but to take dog walking off their hands. Or feet. Oh dear. Poor loves. It’s terribly worrying.
Update – have spoken to friend near Canterbury. She has also had a fall, hurt her knee, which joint she had replaced a couple of years ago and landed smack on her face, which is a bit of a mess. I’ve offered to go and fetch her, but she thinks she’ll be okay.
If you have blessings, count ’em tonight, darlings.