Oh, bother! I tell you, I’m sick of being cooped up in this hospital bed!
My nurses keep telling me that writing is the best way to get it out of my system, that my frustration will most easily leave my body through the nib of a pen. Well, screw the nib of a pen – I’m taking this to the internet! You ladies don’t mind if I commandeer our book club page for a moment or two, do you?
Well, these (amazing) doctors finally figured out what’s been bugging my shoulder so much for so long – I need a scapula fracture fixation! Of all things! A broken shoulder!
Now, obviously, you’re probably thinking “Mags, when did you take up American Football? I didn’t know you’d decided to try professional kickboxing?” Well, I haven’t! I don’t even know how it happened! It could be the time that I slipped in the shower – you know that story already, girls – or it could just be any old little bump at my age. The doctor said it isn’t important, just so long as we treat it.
So now I’m being shuffled across the country to find the best shoulder injury specialist in Melbourne, to see what he makes of my condition and to see how easy this fixation surgery is going to be. A nice man, actually, we already spoke over the computer. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m sick of being cooped up in here!
Oh, god, I think they’re going to send me in an ambulance too. I’d assumed I’d get a helicopter at least, something that would rocket me to my appointment without any hassle. The last thing I want is to be crammed inside a metal box and bounced around for hours with some barely-trained medical students yawning beside me.
Anyway, girls, I’ve blathered on enough for one post – at least, that’s what this word count indicator is telling me. I hope you and yours are doing well and, Judy, the flowers were phenomenal. You know how much I love orchids!