Was a weird thing, the final physio session. Some written instructions. Some warnings about not overdoing it. Commitment to do 50 miles of pedaling a week. Lots of smiles and good lucks. A wee bit of sadness. And some fear. Who's going to tell me what to do now? And more importantly, does this mean I won't get any better?
A two month SOS pass (until finally signed off the books). And a silent calculation of what 21 months of physio (2 to 3 times a week) cost the tax payer.... Apparently insurance companies fork out £10k to the NHS for every road traffic accident. I'm guessing that didn't really cover it....
That was two months ago. I cracked on with the cycling. I was, after all, the world's most compliant physio patient. Did the Pedal for Scotland with 9000 others (55 miles on a Birdy is a bloody long day). Got the pink road bike out. Rode to Stirling via the Forth Road Bridge. What a blast. Another 50 miles. Cruising up the hills like a cruising thing. Leaving my companion for dust (although to be fair his tyres were somewhat fatter than mine...).
Cranking up the ambition. Two women in their finest Rapha. Black and red (with those cutsie ever so stylish matching arm warmers) on a three day ride from Balloch to Pitlochry on the NCN. Over the Glenogle Viaduct and bouncing down through the forest into Killin. Autumn leaves and a fading Scottish sun. Fine bed and breakfasts and the best Cullin Skink this side of the black stump. Sheeting rain and happiness personified.
Another 60 miles through Fife. Covered in cowshit and scone crumbs. A puncture 20 metres from the only bike shop on the route. And by the time it had been repaired, the rain had stopped. Cyclists supporting local businesses (and not risking oil on their precious Rapha gear...)
This is not the end of the story. There are several more chapters to go. But it is the end of Physio. And Orthopaedics. Because the clever Gary K discharged me from OPD 6 on Tuesday afternoon. A quick feel of my ankle. A warning to stay off icy roads with the bike. And an end to the endless waiting in the green waiting room beside the yellow corridor. Not all waiting rooms mind, just that green one. For now, my friends, we move to the next chapter - the dreaded Trauma Clinc.
