I got a text from my wife this afternoon to say that she’d had to take Destroyer to the hospital. Worries filled my mind: this year she’s already had two nights in with constant vomiting, a bout of breathing difficulties and a high fever in the UK, so I was perversely relieved to hear it was ‘only’ that she’d fallen off a chair and banged up her ankle.
At the hospital they x-rayed her and couldn’t see a fracture, but they seem quite cautious in Singapore so they put her in a cast anyway, and it’ll be up to a week before they decide to take it off and check. So instead of walking around (something she’d become quite confident at) she’s reduced to crawling around the apartment again, dragging her gimped leg behind her.
Through all this she’s remained in remarkably good spirits, which is a blessing. There has been the occasional moment where she’s caught the edge of her cast on a bit of furniture and begun to yell, but otherwise she’s copacetic. Meanwhile La Serpiente is flinging herself off her bed and almost putting her head through the wardrobe; if it’s not the haze, then people are doing their level best to concuss themselves.
I recorded some of my baby-related strength training today, but I think I’ll wait until tomorrow to publish it. In the meantime I’ve been reading about the Viking Islay incident in a book, where three sailors died of asphyxiation because a compartment in their ship had all the oxygen removed by rust. Until today (and even reading about it) this seemed like somebody hadn’t described things properly, but it turns out rust can be rapid enough to claw all the oxygen out of air in an enclosed space. Another reason to be grateful for working at a desk.