Hi Maxer, that is funny, because the physio came to the house the other day and told him, in no uncertain terms, that she will not be messed about, he is going to have to commit to pulmonary re-hab otherwise there is no point in him going and it his life he is throwing away, not to mention causing me a lot of extra work when there is no need for it. When she went he said, what does she know about how I feel, I told him that if he doesn't go, we are finished, I am not helping him anymore. I think once he gets his stubborn head around it he will be okay, I told him I would wheel him to the clinic in the wheelchair then go off for a couple of hours and get a coffee somewhere. He said, I have been there before (which he has when he was first diagnosed) and they bully you, I said they don't bully you, they will not stand for your cr## that's all.
We will see how he goes, he has to still ring them and make the appointment, if he doesn't I will.
The other day he fancied a drive out, I hate going for a drive with him as it takes absolutely ages to get him in the car, you would think we were packing up for a weeks holiday. We had not got far when he wanted to use the toilet. He has a urinal with him at all times, it is his best friend, anyhow he got out and I had to stand guard whilst he stood at the side of the road with the front and rear car doors open so no-one could see him, you would not believe it, the next door neighbour came round the corner and stopped to see if we wanted help, the neighbours from across the street were also driving past and they stopped to help, I have never seen anyone wee as fast in all my life. After they had driven off we had to go home because he dropped the urinal and it splashed all down the front of my clothes, I could have killed him, he thought it was funny. It is like living with one of the three stooges.