We were on the way to the French Alps where the step-daughter and her boyfriend were doing a ski season. This is the trip that we should have been making six weeks earlier had the last of my Strokes not got in the way. We were taking it as the earliest opportunity after my six week flying ban was up.
Despite the poor start (see previous posts Consultant’s Outpatient Appointment and It felt like I’d had another Stroke) we made it to Manchester Airport for the flight to Chambéry. When originally planning the trip it had seemed like fun to fly to an airport that we had not been to recently and to transfer from there to the slopes using a bus rather than hiring a car or getting a taxi. The fun and games began immediately as the coach we were expecting did not arrive, but we eventually made it on to another and headed for the snow. Chugging through the french countryside I was able to snatch elements of the 6 Nations Rugby match between England and France on the mobile phone. England had a chance of claiming the championship but fell 6 points short in winning 55 − 35, giving the title to Ireland.
We had to change busies for the run up the hill, finally being dropped in the underground car park below our apartment block after dark, Dragging our selfs and our luggage up stairs we found a fairly bog standard single bedroom ski apartment. In fact it was really just a corridor ending in a lounge / kitchenette with a small bedroom and even smaller bathroom off it and obviously not designed to spend much time in. After visiting the nearest supermarket for a few odds and ends we settled down to await a visitation from the step-daughter and her boyfriend.
On this day of travelling I took my first Blood Pressure measurement at 08:00 (145/92) prior to heading to the airport. The second reading was not until just after landing at 18:00 (local time) (183/97) with a third when we got up the hill and after a little food and vino at 22:00 (131/74) and a finale one just prior to doing to bed at 23:00 (126/71).
The first full day up the mountain, Sunday 22nd March, dawned bright and crisp, just as you would hope. My 08:00 reading was 139/86. The Step-daughter and boyfriend were working so the partner and I wondered down to the ski hire shop to equip ourselves after which I took my BP (13:00 - 158/92). We spent the rest of day getting to know our little resort and the main one a short cable car ride down the valley, both of which were purpose built. With dusk having fallen I took my BP again (18:00 − 163/100) and then we made our way to the hotel where the kids worked arriving just in time for them to come off duty and for us all to go to dinner. My BP prior to bed at 22:00 was 158/87.
The Monday was not a great a day weather wise so we spent the time waiting for the kids to come off duty getting to know pottering around the resort. As is often the case in French purpose built ski resorts there is not much to do for the non-skier. My partner and I are vastly different skiers. She has skied since childhood, I have not. She has done everything including Black runs and Off-Piste, I have not. I am happy tootling around Green runs with perhaps a dash of Blue with plenty of coffee and Brandy stops, she is not. Sitting in the cramped apartment my partner told me that she was having real doubts about skiing, so much so that she was thinking of handing back her skis. A couple hours of talking and tears later she decided that for the sake of the kids she would give it a go. We met the people in question for lunch and they came to ours for dinner and stayed the night. I only took three BP readings 09:00 (151/91), 18:00 (168/97) and 22:00 (139/82).
The next day, Tuesday 24th, the holiday really began to go wrong. The partner and I took to our skis. Things did not go well. I really struggled. I have never been the most competent with planks of wood strapped to my feet and it usually takes me a little while to get the snow legs working but I generally find a way of getting by and always enjoy myself: this felt different and I called it a day early. It appeared that while I could move my skis into the correct position I was unable to put any real pressure down through my right leg with that result that turning was next to impossible and the only way to stop, even in the Snowplough, was to fall over. My BP readings for the day were as follows 08:00 - 150/84, 14:00 - 158/95. 18:00 - 168/104 and 22:00 - 153/81.
Wednesday 25th was when the wheels really fell of the holiday. In the evening it was decided to have a family game of Ten-pin Bowling. With previous experience suggesting that I have a couple of "Strikes" and a few "Spares" each game so I was not prepared for ball to barley reach halfway before flopping tiredly into the gutter, mostly on the left. In each of the two games I struggled to reach 50 points. My co-competitors seemed either oblivious to or did not appreciate the physical difficulty I was in and certainly not the psychological turmoil I was suffering.
Over the remaining days of the holiday I did try skiing again, without much improvement. The only place I seemed able to have any control was on the flattest and shortest of nursery slopes, the one with a Carpet Lift and usually used by real beginners and toddlers. This was no fun, even for me. My BP followed a similar pattern all week.
The tiredness got worse as the days passed and culminated in me being unable to finish the meal that we were all having on the Thursday evening which was the last that the kids were able to spend with us as they were working late on the friday. The partner was less than impressed when I made my excesses and headed for the apartment, even though it was only 21:00. She did accompany me on the dark icy journey back to the flat but her mood matched the temperatures outside. She was very angry that I had “ruined” the meal with the step-daughter and her boyfriend and after telling me off again as I prepared for bed she left me alone and returned to continue the meal.
Over the remaining days of the holiday I did try skiing again, without much improvement. The only place I seemed able to have any control was on the flattest and shortest of nursery slopes, the one with a Carpet Lift and usually used by real beginners and toddlers. This was no fun, even for me. My BP followed a similar pattern all week.
The tiredness got worse as the days passed and culminated in me being unable to finish the meal that we were all having on the Thursday evening which was the last that the kids were able to spend with us as they were working late on the friday. The partner was less than impressed when I made my excesses and headed for the apartment, even though it was only 21:00. She did accompany me on the dark icy journey back to the flat but her mood matched the temperatures outside. She was very angry that I had “ruined” the meal with the step-daughter and her boyfriend and after telling me off again as I prepared for bed she left me alone and returned to continue the meal.
No comments:
Post a Comment