16th June 2013
After a day of being careful with my wrist I took off the tubigrip supporting it and thought "oh..that looks a bit swollen now". Having got myself a ridiculous injury earlier in the year I tried looking up what time the non emergency centre was open at Hammersmith. The internet didn't seem to yield any answers, so I gave NHS Direct a call, they'd directed me there before, maybe they would again.
A short time later I was walking back into the front room and saying to Tom and Naomi "Apparently I need to go to A&E." Sigh. So I did. After was was in reality not an overly long wait, but one that for me lasted an eternity as I was sat next to four of these so-called 'teenagers' who are definitely all that is wrong with the world ever.
I was x-rayed and first told that everything was ok, I had a sprain, and they were going to get my a splint. Phew. Then they appeared back again and were now not 100% certain that a line they could see was not a fracture. Which meant me going into a backslab...aka, plaster on the back of my hand, running from the middle of my fingers to a few inches before my elbow, all wrapped up and in a sling.
I'd never been in plaster before, no one in my family had for as long as I could remember at least. I had no idea what to expect, if I had known I would have been full of the glumness of a glumling. I had it on until I could get an appointment at the fracture clinic, which turned out to be two weeks later.
Here I am, returned to the flat, tired and mildly grumpy.
This is my main reason for my absence. Typing was long and boring with one hand. Taking photos left handed was not easy, and whilst I did use my camera I would often revert to my phone as it has the handy characteristic of being easy to hold with one hand. Where do they come up with these things? It's as if they know.