Luckily I broke my hand yesterday
Yesterday morning was all going rather well. The littles and I spent the first hour of the day snuggled up in my bed watching cartoons – THE best way to start the day by the way – and they were dressed and breakfasted with few incidents other than the usual cereal-meets-floor clear-up.
I was eager to get out into the beautiful, bright morning for my last 8 mile run before my laser eye surgery on Tuesday *fingers crossed* but just thought I’d whizz the hoover round quickly first.
So I was just carrying the hoover back down the stairs, feeling rather pleased with myself about my pre-Christmas cleaning, when my foot slipped…
…and then this happened…
Yep… I broke my hand 4 days before Christmas.
But don’t feel sorry for me. I consider myself LUCKY.
As I sat in A&E last night waiting to be seen by the plastic surgeon who will be operating on my hand today – they have to pin the two bones back into place, and yes I waited until the littles were in bed before heading to the hospital – I looked round the room and realised how fortunate I was.
There were families with sick children, a man clearly in severe pain with a broken leg, a lady with her head bandaged and stained with blood.
It could have been so much worse.
I could have broken my leg… my back… my neck.
Instead I have broken the 5th metacarpel bone, one of the smallest in my body, and hopefully in a few months time I will be fully healed and back to normal.
And there is a clue here about a big shift in my mindset, no make that HUGE, that I’m going to be talking about in the New Year – watch this space!
In the meantime does anyone know how to change a nappy one-handed…?