I broke my left wrist...

...saving a goal at footy on Monday night. It was just a few minutes till the game was over, we were losing 3-5 and I was determined not to let the other team's star shooter, Carly, get another goal in before the whistle blew. So when the ball came at me, hard and fast, I stopped it with my left hand. Unfortunately the impact bent my hand all the way back and, as it turned out, broke my wrist. Needless to say it hurt like a bastard. I was in shock and couldn't think beyond getting an ice-pack on it. My teammates were awesome - running cold water over it, making a makeshift sling from a football jersey and generally being attentive. Thank goodness I was persuaded to go to a nearby hospital instead of being complacent and just going home with some frozen peas! I found a cab outside the school we play at, and off to the hospital I went.






The hospital visit was an ordeal in itself (aren't they always?). I had to queue at reception despite the increasing pain which, I'll admit, made me cry. It convinced the receptionist to put me at the front of the nurse queue, so I was grateful for being so emotional (it does help, sometimes). I called Ben to come and keep me company, and in the meantime I saw a nurse who gave me some pills (oh sweet drugs!) and sent me off to have my wrist x-rayed. The x-ray lady told me 'unofficially' that I'd broken my distal radius bone. I mentioned I'd fractured the same wrist when I was 10 but she assured me that it would have fully healed and this was an independent break.

Then came the waiting. Ben found me and we waited together. To pass the time he told me war stories of his broken ankle and broken knee. He also fed me the remainder of my lunch as I was starving. Finally a doctor saw me and told us officially that I'd broken my wrist and would need to get a cast put on it. He said I'd have to wait longer as an old lady had broken both wrists and was being attended to before me. (She'd come out of the elevator in John Lewis and slipped on their shiny floor, putting both hands out to break her fall... see Mum, it's not just sports that are dangerous!)

We continued to wait, and an hour went by. Both Ben and I could barely keep our eyes open. I jokingly said they'd forgotten me. Then a nurse came by and said the doctor had left without passing over my card. So they hadn't known I'd been waiting. And it was almost midnight (I'd got there before 8pm). Nice. Anyway soon after that she got me sorted with a soft half-cast, and made me laugh too, bless her.

So next week they take the soft cast off, x-ray the wrist again, and put on a full, hard cast which I have to wear for at least 4 weeks. Sexy. In the meantime I've taken a few days off work and am living off painkillers and glasses of milk. Living one-armed is sure an eye-opener! I can't open a can, put my hair up or do up my bra without help! Ben has been an angel looking after me, but he can't be here 24/7 so it's all been a bit of an adventure.

Thanks to everyone for the calls, texts, emails, Facebook messages, flowers and cards - you're ace! xx

P.S. I can't believe I just typed all that one-handed!
P.P.S. Thank goodness I'm right-handed!