The outpatients appointment was depressing. I can’t explain how important these milestones are ~ you count the days to them. I am at home alone all day literally counting down to the next outpatients. Today I had an x ray, saw the Lovely Mr F and had physio.

The guy in x-ray told me that Mr F had asked him to help during the operation because he was unsure how it was going to go it was such a severe injury. As it happened he couldn’t help as his wife, in his words, ‘inconveniently gave birth’! I have very little movement in my shoulder and he told me it’s 12 months rehabilitation.

Four months until I can ride a bike or go swimming and at least six months before I can contemplate getting on a horse. The  Lovely Mr F. has signed me off sick completely for another month. He said that physically and psychologically I have no capacity to work yet as I was assaulted twice; once on the slopes and once by him. He said I will feel tired ratty emotional and he was exactly right. I cried in the hospital, I cried when I got home. I saw the physio and she very gently moved my arm for about 15 minutes to try and get some movement into it. It is very stiff and I have to return next week. Following the physio the pain got worse. I think the worst of it is that he said I have to have another operation later this year to remove the pins.

1 calendar month since the accident and three weeks post op. Here is the list ( not complete) of things I can’t do.

Wear a bra

Tie shoelaces

Wash under my left arm pit

Do my hair

Sleep through the night

Wash up

Peel potatoes

Cut anything

Slice bread

Wear eyeliner

Type

Write

Work

Drive

Hug my family

Change my earrings

I went for spiritual healing in desperation and prepared to try anything – I cried at the healing because I actually felt pain free for a few moments, first time since the accident. I am still taking maximum dose paracetemol but don’t think it is working.

I feel like my independence has completely gone this morning I had to ask George to get money out the cashpoint for me and buy me paracetamol. For someone who has been so fiercely independent as I have this is just desperate. I got up showered using the tights method, put on my make up, Lucy did the back of my hair for me before she went to school but ran out of time so I struggled to do the front. I stripped the children’s beds with one hand and then sort of reversed down the stairs dragging the washing basket down with one hand got one load of washing in – its exhausting.  And I feel completely isolated. When you can’t get out and you can’t work you realise how much you take these things for granted.

Hooray! Clips out today. Piece of cake, doesn’t hurt at all and feels like a milestone. George had to come home from work early to take me to the doctors as I didn’t feel like I could walk the two miles there and back.

This brings me to the lessons in humility. Learn to accept help. Of course you can butter toast with one hand, but cutting meat is more tricky – ask for help or accept it if offered.

I am trying not to snap at my family if they offer help too early, or don’t offer help in time. I know they are not mind readers even though I wish they were.

I accept every single offer of a trip out, or lunch and ask to tag on a lift to the GP, local store or  Post Office. I would never normally want to put anyone to any trouble but without asking for help I would not get by. People seem genuinely delighted to be able to do something to help so I have learnt to accept all help offered and given.

I have to rely on my children to do my hair for me, I can shower without getting my shoulder wet and I am getting through wet wipes at a rate of knots as it is the only way of keeping my armpit fresh. My tip for showering is when you take the sling off have a pair of tights knotted together that you can use as a makeshift sling in the shower. If like me you are terrified of falling over as you walk the house in pain at night get some night lights and plug them into sockets over the house. Invest in clothes that you can get on and off easily, and put your bad arm into the tops first, then lifting over your head so finally you can wiggle your good arm in. Ask someone to wash your hair for you – it makes you feel so much better. I am slowly accepting that I just can’t do what I used to do – and it could be a while before I can again.

One week post op. The pain is awful. I feel like there is a gnawing in my bone and I swear I can feel every bolt in my bone. My arm is so bruised and tender that it hurts to have it in the sling. I took two tablets of tramdol and have never been so ill – a crashing headache, sweating and a bit doolally and the codeine gives me such a dry mouth that I just can’t take it. The consequence? I am trying to cope with the pain on paracetamol – I can only have 8 a day, 4-6 hours apart. I am trying to last for 6 hours but it is hard. If I don’t I know that it is longer until I can have the next lot.

I have downloaded an app on my phone – RxmindMe – there are others – to make sure that I keep up with all the tablets I have to take and don’t overdose on paracetamol. It is really useful and I would recommend using it as it is hard to keep track when you are in so much pain it is difficult to think straight.

I can’t sleep. I literally can’t sleep. I have got all my pillows as high as possible so that I am sitting up in bed which is the most comfortable but I just can’t sleep. Mr F did warn me of this – his tip? Netflix. I have downloaded a load of books on my kindle and spend most of the night reading them.

The pain and the lack of sleep means that I am really, really grumpy. I am normally such an active person, literally never in the house as I am up with the horse or out with the kids and now I am stuck here, in pain and with no sleep.

The days are long and the nights are longer. Once I have got myself up ( which is a drama in itself) I move from sitting on the sofa, to sitting in the kitchen, to sitting in the garden – you get the picture. I am making myself walk a mile a day so at least I am getting some exercise and I am lucky because the kids are still on Easter holiday and the sun is shining brightly on us.

I am completely overwhelmed by how kind people have been. I have had 16 bouquets of flowers so the house looks like a florists. I have been sent books, DVDs, magazines, toiletries and chocolates. One of the Mum’s from the stables who herself has had a fractured scapula brought round a lasagne for the night I got home from the hospital. Max was absolutely thrilled – especially as another lady from the stables had brought round deserts to go with it!

George had to go abroad on business so my Mum, who hates driving, bravely drove the 160 miles down here to help out. She has been cooking and washing like a mad thing and has even made chocolate muffins with Guiness for extra iron! Apparently they will help the healing. Not sure if that is true or not but they certainly taste good. The kids are delighted that my Mum is here – for them it is time off cooking and she always spoils them.

Despite all this kindness and help I am just miserable. The lack of sleep and pain is wearing and it is really hard to be positive when you have only one arm that is any use and no idea how much movement you will get back in your right arm.

Mum left after two nights and when she had gone I went to bed and cried. This is so not me. I read something written by an Australian lady who had a similar operation saying her ‘soul literally broke’. I know how she feels and if you have had the same I expect you do to.

I feel incredibly lucky that hopefully this is only temporary. My left arm is getting stronger and I am making myself write every day with it to try and get better. I figure if five year olds can learn to write neatly I certainly can. It is paying off as my writing is at last legible – in fact my daughter, Lucy, tells me that it is better than before!

I feel quite incapacitated and cack handed at everything. Having been so independent I hate having to ask for help. I watch as the children and George cook and wash up and it drives me mad not being able to help.

Naturally I can’t drive and have been told that I can’t drive for two to three months. I have worked out how to shower and get dressed but can only wear shirts that button up at the front which go over the sling.

You tube is amazing – there are some fantastic clips on there, mostly from people who have had a stroke on how to live with one arm. Everything from hanging out washing ( which I can now do, using my teeth on the pegs) to tying hair up ( which I find impossible).

Sleeping is virtually impossible but I love it when I do sleep as I am in no pain! Consequently I cat nap all day and night. I am losing weight – every cloud has a sliver lining!!

I woke up in Moutiers hospital ready for my shoulder surgery. Unfortunately it wasn’t as straight forward as I had expected. Having been prepped for theatre the surgeon came into the room – in his late fifties he said he didn’t speak a word of english. So, surrounded by nurses who were doing their best to translate the words I didn’t understand, he explained that the operation was too complex for him as the fracture was ‘tres sévère’, and that the bone was so badly broken he thought I would need a shoulder replacement and that I should go home. As long as I had the operation in a couple of days it would be fine.

No  sooner had he left the room than the hospital administrator arrived with a sheet of paper – ‘follow these three steps with your insurance company – and start now’ he said as he presented me with a bill for €1300!

Despite the IV which was pumping me full of painkillers I was in pain and incredibly upset by the news I had so I called my husband, George, who came to the hospital to help me make arrangements.

Well, if only it was that simple. It became apparent that the ward was 90% full of Brits who had been on skiing holiday who were trying to make their way home. One poor man had broken his back and although he was able to walk in a brace had been stuck there 10 days while the insurance tried to sort out transport!

There followed a whole day of phone calls, faxs,forms and by the end of the day we had got nowhere. I was so upset. One of the key problems was that the insurance company would send their form over in english, the hospital would fill in a different french form and then we would have to wait for the form to be translated. I was beginning to see how people were stuck in the hospital for so long.

One of the complicating factors was the IV – so I asked the nurse to take it down and give me oral medication – which I supplemented with the medication that George had got from the pharmacy in the mountains.

While George battled it out with the insurance, I tried to sort out a hospital admission in the UK – again no mean feat as I was not in the UK system, and I believed up against the clock.

I contacted my GP who was simply brilliant. That night, about 9:30pm French time she called me back and had a long chat with me about how I was, what my arm looked like and what I had been told. She had contacted a specialist shoulder surgeon in my home town who had told her there was no hurry to have the shoulder operated on, and that he would see me when I returned. I was a little relieved but not wholly as neither the UK surgeon nor my GP had seen the x rays.

I went to sleep hopeful that I would get home tomorrow….

I went skiing with my family in March. Now I know, possibly more than others, the dangers of skiing. During our annual family holidays my mother has dislocated a shoulder, torn a cruciate ligament, broken her back and broken her arm. My brother dislocated his shoulder so many times he had to have surgery; he also tore all the ligaments in one knee and has had multiple surgeries to his leg. My daughter hit a pole and had stitches in her eyebrow and my son and my husband have both broken arms.

When it is written like this it does make me wonder why on earth we keep going. Well, the simple answer is it is a fabulous family holiday, we love the mountains, the exercise, the adventure, the food….when it is good it is amazing!

This year wasn’t so good. We arrived on Saturday and by Sunday night I was in hospital. I was involved in a collision with another skier and knew instantly I had hurt my shoulder. Having made both husband and son ski on broken arms I decided to ‘man up’ and ski down to seek help. 400mg of ibuprofen, 4 ski lifts and a lot of swearing later I made it back to our appartment.

As soon as I took my jacket off I knew I was in trouble as my arm was so swollen so we went and found the local doctor. Before he x rayed it, he told me my arm was broken, however, when he saw the x ray he went pale and told me I would need an operation as there were multiple fractures.

He kindly took my husband to one side, put an arm around him and presented him with a bill for €350 and a prescription for painkillers and a sling to take to the pharmacy around the corner.

While my husband went and collected the painkillers and sling ( a further €160) the doctor called an ambulance for me. The ambulance staff were very kind to me as we went down the mountain to the hospital. On the journey they presented me with  the bill for the trip – €180. As for some unknown reason my debit card wouldn’t work they stopped at a cash point and got the cash out to pay for the trip! By this point I really appreciated our NHS!

At the hospital I had to fill in numerous forms, tricky as it was my dominant arm that was injured and they were all naturally in French. I had an MRI and further X ray and was told I would have an operation in the morning. I was reassured that this was a specialist orthopaedic hospital and that they were used to doing this type of operation. As it was all in French the medical terms were testing my language skills but I went up to the ward confident that I was in good hands……..