November 20th, 2019


Four Hours In The Fracture Clinic...

 Waited an hour to be seen by doctor. Then got a fresh cast, then another X-Ray. then saw a nurse, then the doctor again, then blood tests. I got an inexperienced drainer who couldn't deal with my small veins, and with the help of a senior, ended up getting the blood from my hand. I've got bruises a-plenty. At last I was free, but spent about ten minutes failing to get into my coat. Finally stopped a man, and begged for a hand. Mortified, and it still kept sliding of all the way home.  I felt very frail and doomed and weepy.
When I finally got back, I shared a cuddle with Moon, while gobbling up a couple of episodes of BRITANNIA, which perked me up no end.
Oh yes, I'm really afraid I've lost my phone!
...Another weird thing. Everyone in fractureland seemed to remember me from two years ago. Is that even possible? They must see at least 100 old farts with broken wrists every week. I guess I'm really THAT odd-looking. ''Once seen, never forgotten'