My little brother is a surf life saver in his spare time. If it weren't for the fact that he likes reading and playing silly board games, I would wonder if we were related.
On Saturday morning, I was dragging poor Phoebe around open houses when I got a call from said brother. Life saving training - mistiming - broken ankle - hospital - surgery ...
He smashed it up really badly, and had to have plates and pins and all sorts put in it. And now he's come home - to us. I think it's partly because we have fewer stairs to negotiate on crutches - and partly because it's just more pleasant to be stuck at home with your foot up with company and meals and other distractions, rather than in your own flat, by yourself.
1 comment:
what's more it's the second time i've used this recovery clinic.. halfway house perhaps i could say
Post a Comment