We got through yesterday, but it cost us both.
Your kind comments came too late – I took the edging along. It was a mistake – but no harm was done. I was too trembly to knit with pleasure, and my husband's name kept being called causing us to spring up in mid-row to gather up all our bags and coats. He saw four separate nurses before we got to the actual doctor – the weigh-in, bloods, a lung-function test, and finally a nice talk about Life.
That final nurse thought we would qualify for Disability Living Allowance, and once we had that we could easily get a Disabled badge for the car which is what we really want. I don't want to take money from the state which we don't need (and complicate the income tax still further) but I'll look it up. The badge for the car would be very useful – you can park on yellow lines.
When we finally saw the dr, he agreed that the whole exercise was pointless. There is nothing they can do for my husband except to provide him with oxygen, and we don't think things are quite that bad yet.
The one thing to be said for having taken the edging along, was that it was a great conversation-starter amongst elderly respiratory patients. One particularly nice woman told me that she had had to give up knitting because of arthritis. That would be terrible. I wondered afterwards whether mastery of the Shetland technique with a knitting-belt would extend one's knitting years at all, since so much less movement of the hand is required.
And I mustn't forget that mastering the belt remains high on my to-do list.
In the midst of the morning preparations, the yarn from Jamieson & Smith arrived – and it bears the same lot number as the four balls I bought in Lerwick over the counter in September. Meadow Yarn says that my needles have been dispatched – no worry there, they'll go through the letter box. So we're all set. All that has to happen is for Hellie to get engaged. I'll look pretty silly if she's left on the shelf.
It is a general rule of life that worrying about something more-serious forces lesser worries to resolve themselves. I think there is an Old Chinese Proverb about the cure for toothache being to shoot off your big toe.
I've now knit 21 scallops of the 50 on the final side of the Unst Bridal Shawl edging – nearly half-way. One at the hospital, the rest peacefully, with steady hands, at home. Thinking ahead a bit, and presuming my percentages to be not-too-far-off, if I can do a fifth of this thing in a little over a month (I started on December 26), I ought to be able to finish it comfortably this year, with a bit of extra knitting on the side.
My sister phoned last night for an eve-of-battle chat in preparation for Wednesday. She and her husband will set off for NYC this afternoon.