Well all good things must come to an end, and as of this afternoon, Lisa's two-week holiday in Suffolk (which lasted for ten days) has drawn to a close, and I've returned her to the relative safety of Brighton. She doesn't seem to fall over quite as often here as in the rugged terrain of East Anglia, so I think it's just as well. Although I might still invest in a red panic button for her to wear around her neck in case she topples over on the way to the bathroom.
But on the bright side, Lisa's clifftop tumble has enabled me to gain some valuable experience in caring for the infirm. I've never had a relative who's this unsteady on her pins, and I've learnt a lot, particularly on Thursday when the inevitable post-traumatic stress kicked in, and Lisa went down with a serious case of shock. Well, I say shock, it was more of a stomach complaint, but it began within hours of her involuntary abseiling episode, so I'm pretty sure there's a link.
I looked up the symptoms of shock on the internet, and found them to be: sweaty skin, pale skin, nervousness, confusion, nausea and loss of blood. But let's face it, this is a woman who sleeps under a duvet in the middle of summer, couldn't tan if you put her under a sunbed for a week, panics at the mere mention of a residential course, struggles to follow a road map of Brighton, gags at the sight of rice, and has been on her period all week. So frankly she already has all those symptoms.
In the end I made an informed medical decision, and drove to the nearest health food shop for some prunes. Which was handy, because it also meant I could pop into the YMCA shop and buy the (frankly underrated) first series of 'Survivor' on video for a pound. The combination of that and some healthy eating (I was forced to go out for sausage rolls on Friday), and that case of shock cleared up within 48 hours. I really should be a doctor.