Apologies in advance for any and all typos in this post. I’m tapping away left-handed and my left thumb is not very dexterous. Not even auto-correct seems to know what I’m trying to say.
But anyway, after last night’s (sadly) non-alcohol fuelled misadventures my arm still wasn’t good this morning. It had dull-ached all night, but I could move it until it came to touching my face (so no contact lenses, make-up or anything other than frizz for hair today). I didn’t think it was broken, but when my fingers started to tingle I thought I’d better see what nhsdirect had to say on the matter.
It told me to go to A&E as soon as possible.
Obviously it’s not as easy as that. Boo had to get to her ballet dress rehearsal looking every bit as perfect as possible. This was going to be more likely to happen with me battling through the pain than it was to send Husband in my place.
Even once I’d fulfilled my dance mum duties getting to the hospital was far harder than it need be. Concerned that there’d be a fair chance of coming home beslinged I thought it best not to drive myself. Husband doesn’t drive, so once again reverted to his chocolate teapot role. A bus went past just before I got to the stop (typical) so I decided to walk. Despite a gloriously sunny morning, within ten minutes the heavens opened. But of course they did.
After sheltering in a shop doorway I managed to flag down a second bus, grateful to have avoided the inevitable drenching by passing-car-through-enourmous-puddle. But it was too late for my hair, which had developed into a mass of frizz. Frizz which I couldn’t sort due to the restricted reach of my gammy arm. Thanks, circumstance.
Still, I eventually made it there, wet and frizzy and a lot later than if someone could have driven me, but at least I was no more damaged than when I left home. Only a hobbit could have made it into any more of a quest.
Naturally, the place was heaving. Unfortunately, whoever configured the seats thought everyone would prefer a cinema-style arrangement in order to watch Homes Under the Hammer rather than the far more interesting spectacle of ‘I wonder what’s wrong with them.’ Shame on them for spoiling my fun. (At least last time I was in A&E they had the genius foresight to screen 24 Hours in A&E.)
But the staff were lovely and I got seen relatively quickly (I didn’t even get to find out if Adrian and Toby chose to move to Australia in Wanted Down Under.) It’d been the most time I’d has to myself during daylight hours in a long time. I’d have happily stayed longer.
Ultimately it was decided that I’d caught my elbow in such a way that the nerves were swollen, hence the tingly fingers, but thankfully nothing worse. All I need is to rest my arm, so I’ve been supplied with a sling so rudimentary Husband suspected I’d done it myself…
…and to apply sporadic ice packs. Within minutes I was out on the street again clutching a brace of nhs leaflets…
…and wishing I’d been supplied with a bandage to sort out my disaster hair.
Husband today is now in charge of all domestic duties whilst I issue commands. I cannot express the joy at informing him that Noodles had filled his nappy. The pain is almost worth having the tables turned.