This week I had an appointment to see the pain physiotherapist at UCLH, London. I have waited months for the appointment and now I've had to cancel it as I'm stuck in hospital in Nottingham. Being honest, I'm not really sure what a pain physio is or what they do so I was looking forward to finding out. This appointment also forms part of the process that you have to go through before you can be signed onto their pain management programme. This is a 12 week programme designed to help patients learn how to live with their pain, accept their pain and work towards a point where you control the pain rather than the other way round. I had bend hoping to join the programme on the September intake but that looks unlikely to happen now.
I had also used the appointment as an excuse to spend a week 'down South' and catch up with friends. The kids had been really looking forward to this and are both angry and upset that we can't go. I had planned a catch up with different people every day, aswell as sleepovers for the kids so I've had the task of messaging everyone to call it all off. I'm just glad I didn't book anything as I had been looking at taking the kids to the theatre in the West End as a treat.
One other problem with not going 'home' is that of my mail. I haven't had chance to sort out mail redirection and so I must have piles and piles of letters there waiting to be read. I have sorted out the important stuff: banks, credit cards and hospital letters are already arriving on the mat in Nottingham but there must be plenty that aren't.
I had also arranged for a removal firm to come and give us a quote to pack and move us. With Hubby's new job and long commute and me nigh on useless there's no way we could pack even if we had the time. A few years ago we had to move out of our house after a leak and the insurance company paid for the packing to be done. Two guys arrived with boxes, bubble wrap and tape and watching them going around the house it was clear they knew what they were doing. They got most of the house packed in an afternoon (although they didn't touch the loft room or the garage) when it would have taken us days (read weeks). I know some people use it as an opportunity to have a clear out but I know what I would be like. I would find old photographs and spend a day looking through them. Or be distracted by the kids baby boxes. And when you're on a tight time scale there just isn't time for sentimentality.
Luckily Bestie is going to meet the removal man and go through my mail for me. I'm sure that a fair chunk of it with be takeaway menus, clothes recycling bags and other junk mail. But what's left will need opening. Hopefully there's no speeding fines or parking tickets that have to be paid within so many days bevause by now we will have to take a second mortgage out to pay them if there is!
To be honest I'm just as gutted about not going home as the kids are. Some people might find this daft but I wanted to spend some time in the house and say goodbye to it. It's been our home for 9 years and I have so many happy memories there. I will have to get Hubby to take us down at least for a night before the sale completes. I can't imagine other people living there, sleeping in our bedrooms, playing in the garden and cooking in my kitchen. I think because we haven't found a house in Nottingham that we're looking forward to moving into it's hard to let go and move on. So much has happened this year and Hubby and I knew it would be difficult but it's much harder than I anticipated. At the moment I feel unsettled because we haven't properly settled in Nottingham and we haven't left Hertfordshire either. And being stuck in hospital with plenty of time to think and mull things over is no good either. Good job I've stumped up for a tv card for the week to take my mind off everything. You can always rely on This Morning and all the other crappy daytime tv programmes to numb your brain cells!
NB x
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