It was one of those things. The back door was open and I thought I'd just nip out to the bin with some garbage and next minute I was sailing through the air and landed badly on the concrete patio slabs. That was quickly followed by a few expletives and some rolling about on the lawn, which is where Lorna found me, her having come out to see what the ruckus was about. There was a time when I'd have just rolled on contact or not even tripped over my own feet at all, but I suppose I'm getting older; sigh!
Anyway, I thought I'd just strained my right arm but next morning it was pretty obvious that all was not well so we headed off to the local hospital where it was eventually pronounced broken. Well, at least they thought it probably was but the x-ray wasn't conclusive so they stuck it in a sling and told me to come back the next day.
More x-rays are duly taken and yes, it's definitely broken! All I get then is a collar and cuff strap, told it'd heal by itself, take some pain killers and come back in three weeks. Not even a plaster cast people can sign for the trouble but I have to admit I'm happier about that. I'm typing this with my left hand or at least one finger of my left hand so posting is difficult.
It's amazing what you can't do easily with just one hand. Try pulling up your trousers, fastening a belt or pulling on a pair of socks one handed and you'll see what I mean. Tying your own shoe-laces is just out of the question. I'm right-handed as well so having to do everything left-handed just makes it even more awkward. Try spreading some jam on toast and you'll soon see how frustrating it gets, chasing the toast around the plate with a jammy knife.
I'm slowly learning to use a mouse and type left-handed and I'm just about okay to type for a wee while before the arm gets too sore so I'll maybe try and post a few articles soon. It has to be better than having to watch day-time television.