As I write this, my medication is wearing off. Also, /i am typing this one handed, so its very good going for being an invalid. I hope you, dear reader, appreciate the lengths I am going to here, to not only inform you of this plight, but also to relate the comical side of life. Because of the medication no longer functioning, i expect this to become edgier as it goes.
So, with four sleeps to my birthday, i have managed to break my self. In fact, it was not me who broke myself, but was rather done for me. I, of course, did the falling, injuring and screaming, but that’s where my involvement begins and ends. You see, at the local, and travelling ice rink, i was skating, and not for the first time in my life either. Standing still, and rather impressed with myself at being able to stand still, a young man careened into me, removing my feet from the ground and bringing my full weight onto my wrist. My wrist, not being to fond of these developments, decided it was now time to throw its toys out the cot and snapped. I of course not being to fond of my wrist snapping, decided it was time to visit the local hospital.
At the local “hospital”, and i use that word generously, they confirmed what i already knew. My wrist was in fact, not meant to look like that. The joy. So an ambulance was dispatched to my current location at the local get better bar. I climbed into the ambulance and got given amazing gas. From here on out, I will relate what other people – Simone – has told me.
The ride was fun with me being stoned – with good reason as my hand was flapping about on the edge of my arm. I made a new friend – Grant. I have a feeling he was less impressed with me, as I was impressed with myself. After all, how often does a boyfriend get his girlfriend a ride in an ambulance? I was fantastic – and it only took me shattering my arm to do so. I now realise that the bar has been raised exceptionally high for our next outing. I introduced everyone to the word “doofballs” and was coherent enough to actually explain it. Man, people would be so proud. “There he goes” they’ll say “the guy who fractured his fingers and popularized the now hip and trendy word doofballs”. That is the ambulance ride.
Arriving at the real hospital, which turned out to be on my right, instead of my left as i suspected, making me look like a real right idiot (ok, more of an idiot than i actually was), we moved through and i managed to find a scale. This excited me beyond belief – the growing pain in my mangled appendage forgotten – and i jumped on. I didn’t like what it told me, so i sat down. I have no recollection of anything that happened until I was on a standard hospital bed, informing the nurse to please send in Simone as I am now rather terrified and her amazing boyfriend is getting lonely. In fact i remember being concerned enough to want to jump off the bed and find her myself, for surely these nurses might send in the wrong one. And i didn’t want just any old Simone off the Simone shelf, but my one. She found me and the gas was bought back. Kyle was happy.
I have no idea what happened in these hours apart from being told i was happy the nurse help up my pants for x-rays, and entertaining Simone’s family no end. In fact there is a short video of me being “fantastic”. Next minute, I wake up to the worst pain in my life. The doctor had found me, and decided to care enough to yank on my arm, not just once, but three times. The nurse held my elbow and he pulled my hand. Through my screams, I either heard popping, or cracking. Every. Single. Time. I can not relate to you, reader, the excruciating pain that had befallen me. Surely this is penance for my sins. I can’t recall if the gas came back. I cant recall how I got to Simone’s house. I knew where i was, and why i was there when I woke though, so my shattered mind is slowly collecting itself together.
And there in lies the end of the exciting part of my adventure. I have a cast. Medication. And am complete;y useless now. Well for the next few days at least. Having to learn how to be functional as a one armed band-aid will be an experience in itself.
So the moral of the story is… Actually, I haven’t the foggiest. I am injured. I am sore. And I am now very, very grumpy. Good night!