Living by the Port of Montrose

It was one of those mornings.  I fed the sheep, rounded up the dogs,  poured my coffee in a travel mug and jumped in the car, but the damn thing wouldn't start. 

Mid-Covid,  we were insanely busy.  I didn't have long, so put the rapid charger on the car and, to pass the time, started to wade through property listings for my nieces and nephews who had decided to invest money from the sale of a London flat. 
 I saw a listing, not too far from Dundee, but far enough not to be right on the family's doorstep.  The spec looked good and I had my mother's inheritance in the bank... which needed investing before I spent it willy-nilly on anything but sensible.  
At 9 am I requested a virtual viewing.
At 11 am I contacted my solicitor and instructed them to make an offer.
At 3 pm I was accepted as the future owner of the property in Ferryden.  
Was I mad?... Probably!!

I wasn't ready to leave Surrey or my clients there.  I was due to retire but thought I'd probably see my existing clients out. That, unfortunately, happens when you look after the elderly. I gave myself a couple of years. 
With trepidation, my sister and I went to pick up the keys. The flat was tiny!  Ok... let's pass that observation. 
The flat was spotless and far better than I'd imagined. An absolute bonus and a thumbs up to the previous owners who now live in the maisonette above me!
I ripped up the carpets and put down hard flooring. The boiler needed updating so a new one was installed... OMG, the Cowboys! They thought I was prepared to spend mega bucks unnecessarily, but that could be another instalment!

I travelled up and down a few times, bringing up excess furniture to make the flat look comfortable. I feel most comfortable, driving  overnight. I've travelled this way for years.  However, this time, this numbskull didn't rest and went straight into a full day's work.
  
I returned at 8 pm... my lovely neighbour offered a single glass of wine, which was gratefully received..I wasn't there for more than ten minutes.  I was so tired that I took the bare minimum from the car and dragged myself up the stairs. I lost my footing on the top step.
  
You don't expect to fall. I was fit and healthy and it was just a normal, routine, climb up to bed, but my head bounced like a ball, step by step, down those stairs.  The frightening bit was, for the first time in my life, I couldn't control a fall.

Within an hour I'd realised I'd hurt myself enough to call an ambulance. Carers don't call the services without reason. I, an idiot, called 111 instead of 999. The pain was excruciating.
Four hours of perceiving every hair had a nerve ending later, the ambulance arrived. They collared me and took me to Guilford Royal Infirmary. 

I am so, so very lucky.  I had fractured my C2 vertebrae.  I could move my fingers and my toes and didn't need a wheelchair. However, the healing process is long.  

Shortening the story. We decided that living ruraly, it was going to be difficult for me to stay in Surrey without assistance.  It was time.  I needed to be near my family. 

 With the unforgettable help from my friends, we managed to downsize my belongings by, roughly 7/8ths and my sister came down to move me up to Ferryden.

Life lessons!  12 weeks of wearing a hard collar  24 hrs a day is not comfortable.  Not being able to drive, is intolerable. Don't knock the health services in Scotland. They can only be applauded.  Carers came in four times a week to help me wash and change the collar without any movement of my neck. I only saw three carers twice.  All now know how to change a collar! 

Am I healed... well. the collar came off. My age is against me and it will never fully heal.  It can be painful at times but can turn my head further every day. I'm not as agile as I was, and as much as I hate to admit it, I have a deep sense of dread every time I have to go up or down stairs.   
But, Hey ho... It could have been so much worse.

 I'm alive.