The wound in my leg is infected. I’ve got to keep it clean and raised. Not easy. It started as a cut but I thought it would be OK after dressing it. Now it’s sore and red and weeping. Don’t assume that if it looks clean it’s OK. Who knows what the car door shoved through my trouser leg into the wound. I can’t physically see it as its on the side, round the back. But hubby insisted I got medical treatment.

Things like this test relationships. The roles you slot into can be reversed. I’m used to caring for him, now he’s got to sort me out. I realise why patients need patience. Can’t make him do things unless it’s in his own good time. But we will get there as they say, in sickness and in health. x