The daily prompt suggests that today be designated “Person X day” and I can choose who person X is. This is going to be tenuous to say the least!
Regular visitors will know from a previous post that I am left handed. This is causing me some grief at the moment I have a poorly arm or possibly a wonky wrist. It may be that it is an erroneous elbow or even a malfunctioning shoulder.
It all started back in July. I have no idea how or why but I awoke with a pain in my wrist that could only be alleviated by moving my arm in a similar sort of way to that of a ventriloquist with an extremely active dummy. The pain likes to migrate from time to time. I have a vision of my arm as a tiny and rather idiosyncratic savannah and the pain is a herd of Wildebeest wandering around looking for the best place to graze.
I decided to visit the doctor to see what was going on. Bless. There was a new doctor at my surgery. It could be that I am just getting that syndrome whereby everyone looks a lot younger than expected (I think it is called old age) but goodness me, she was barely out of school. One giveaway was the One Direction poster on the wall next to the eye chart, I didn’t really know whether to offer up my arm for examination or ask her when her mum was coming back.
I was provided with an array of tablets to make the swelling go down (I think it must have been invisible swelling of some sort, or maybe it was similar to those sounds that only young people can hear, I couldn’t see anything) and told to come back if it hadn’t gone away in a month (the pain, not my arm, I’d be in a right pickle if my arm went away without me).
The pain didn’t go away (I’m not sure about the invisible swelling, it seemed to improve but who can tell) so I re-visited. This time with a lollipop and a teddy bear to get on her good side. It seems that I need to see a physiotherapist. No problems. I can do that. I’ll wait for the call.
So on Friday I received the call to arms (so to speak) from what sounded like a toddler and was summonsed to “O” building to see the physio. As I put the phone down the pain went away. Just like that. No. More. Pain.
I thought it best to visit the physio just in case. She was (possibly) the younger sister of the doctor. To be fair she was very professional and knew all about the bits that make up my arm but it was a bit disconcerting that she had a Pepper pig plaster on her finger. I’m hoping that it was the only plaster available and not that she believed that Pepper would kiss her wound better than a band-aid would. She is of the opinion that I have been overworking my arm and some of the tendons have been damaged (readers of the other blog will know of my propensity for repeatedly hitting things with a large hammer) and so I must rest it. I have a splint and some rather pleasing exercises to do. One of them (would you believe) involving a glossy magazine. I fear that her image of how my arm had become overused was somewhat different to my own.
In summary, I nominate the toddler who made the phone call to me that made my pain go away. The NHS should be cloning her and putting the clones on every telephone in every hospital in the country. Happy telephonist day.
Please take the time to look at the other posts on the daily prompt. They are always worth reading and never as ridiculous as mine.