Tag Archives: haematoma

Pause. Press Play.

Pause. Press Play.After more than three weeks off work with a lumpy haematoma on my leg, I am finally off my sofa and raring to go.

When I tell people I work for my builder friend, they raise an eyebrow, look me up and down and say, ‘Oh, really?’ They might have visions of me driving a large white van, chucking plasterboard around and fitting worktops in my spare time.

Years ago when I helped my friend set up his company, this was probably true. He taught me how to use a drill and I became an excellent tiler. Those days are long gone, although I can still tile if I sit on a bench and the boss applies the adhesive for me first. It’s a bit like mosaic craft work. Until the tiles fall off.

My boss is the Patron Saint of Hopeless Causes and reluctantly agreed to let me work with him after I was sacked from my job. I begged, cajoled and consented to listening to commercial radio all day long. Obviously MS has put paid to most of the things I used to do, so we have ‘adapted and overcome’. Well, I have. The boss may well disagree.

So now, my duties consist of – making tea and coffee, putting the radio on, tidying up the boss’s toolbox (not very well, as you can see from my picture), sweeping things in to little piles everywhere, gossiping, yelling out a countdown to lunchtime, making more tea and coffee and spending hours nattering to the owners of whichever house we are working on (or ‘skiving’, as the boss calls it). I call it good PR. If there’s a job where my presence is more of a hindrance, I work from home, writing up quotes, sourcing materials and helping him with his website, so I’m not completely useless.

When I asked the boss if he had missed me when I was off, he looked bemused and paused mid-way through drilling. ‘Missed what?’ I flounced (limped and stumbled) off, but he has a point, I suppose. He rattled off the facts – ‘you keep dropping the nails, you trip over everything, I find you dozing off in quiet corners, you can’t lift anything heavier than a hammer, and you talk non-stop. What’s to miss?’

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Haematoma Blues (And Purples, And Reds…)

haematoma bluesMy magnificent bruising has been reclassified as a haematoma, which probably explains why I’m still hobbling around almost two weeks since my accident.

I was lucky enough to see one of our fabulous MS nurses at the Work and MS conference on Saturday and during a coffee break, I rolled my jeans down in the loos to show her the injury.

She carefully examined it and suggested I take myself off to Accident and Emergency to have it scanned in case there was an underlying fracture.

To cut a long story short, my mum took me that evening and the good news is, it’s just a haematoma, not a fracture. The bad news is, the only thing I can do is wait for the swelling to go down. It’s not going anywhere fast and neither am I. The pace of my life wasn’t particularly speedy before (take a bow, MS fatigue and foot drop) but has now slowed to a virtual stop.

I’ve been told to keep my leg elevated as much as possible, so needing no excuse to lie down and fill my brain with trashy tv when I should be slaving over an essay, my sofa is now almost permanently in use, much to the chagrin of the cat.

The Teenager marvels at my ‘cushy’ life and prods the lump on my leg in wonder. He’s very much enjoying visiting friends for tea after school and has perfected his sad face when talking to their parents, ‘oh, my mum’s dreadfully ill, she’s got this massive  thing on her leg, the size of a rugby ball, honestly, she can barely speak, it’s that bad’ before gratefully accepting yet another chocolate roll or can of Coke.

I’m sure I’ll be back on my feet soon enough and will no doubt look back wistfully on my weeks at home when I go back to work.  But I do miss the banter and bacon rolls and even my nickname, ‘Half-Shift’…

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