scrubs

as you may have seen from yesterdays post, i've broken my wrist.

i wish i had done it rescuing a kitten, whilst under heavy gunfire, and being temporary blinded. however, this was not the case. the fact of the matter is that at the age of 27 i still have problems tying shoe laces, and that running whilst said shoe laces are flapping in the breeze is not really a good idea. still, i did manage to drive 30 miles down the bypass, drop a drunken workmate off, and then drive 10 miles to hospital whilst changing gear with my right hand. uk viewers will note that this is a ludicrous thing to do, but i saw it as a test of endurance, and a bloody sore one at that.

after 2 weeks in a cast i was told that one of the bones had become mis-aligned, and that i'd have to get a metal plate screwed onto it. with a week to go before i was to be a bestman at a mate's wedding, you could see why this prospect didn't exactly fill me with fun. still, it all went to plan, and aside from a cracking scar right down my wrist (which of course was received rescuing a kitten, under gunfire etc), everything was hunky-dory, and i don't mean in a david bowie sort of way either.

flash forward a couple of weeks. the wrist feels pretty good, and i'm back driving again. i still, however have one more visit to the hospital to go, but odds on it should be a formality. or so i thought. it seems that whilst the surgeons were changing their eagles cds, or discussing their handicap (read on, you'll find out what it is), the clever buggers managed to insert a screw that doesn't need to be there, and that said screw will have to be removed should i wish full movement in my wrist again. laugh? i nearly went private.