I watched Boris Johnson get the boot as well, from that same horizontal position. I’ve now had the stitches out and progressed to hobbling around my cobbled Devon farmyard in a boot that, on account of its uneven surface, seems to be realigning all my other bones as well. Since then, I have been morphined up, plastered up, flown back, operated on, had metals inserted and told to remain horizontal with my foot levered in the air, just like the good old days. My screams were so loud my husband thought I’d been deposited at the Saudi consulate by mistake.
MINI DIARY PACKS CRACKED
It deposited me at Perugia Hospital where three hefty men – without warning or painkillers – pinned me down and cracked it back to midday. Unlike in the UK, the ambulance came speedily. It happened just outside hot Todi I was arm in arm with Philip Dunne, the former health minister and MP for Ludlow, and slipped, my foot relocating almost instantly to quarter past the hour. So, I went on a weekend mini-break to Italy and came back with three ankle breaks and a month and a half later I’m patiently waiting to learn to walk again.
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