One Day, One Arm

Well this is a new one for me. Today I went to the doctors and, uninteresting story made short, my left arm was pumped full of stuff. Long term it’s great, but short term it doesn’t half make my life fun.

Said arm is currently in a state of varying nagging pain. Not insufferable, but not ignorable either. It’s a bit like walking through a field of sugar-coated stinging nettles which has been made home to a swam of wasps. Constant background pain with the occasional sharp stab with each false move of the arm. Irritating pain, irritating pain, irritating pain, STAB! Irritating pain, irritating pain, irritating pain, STAB!

Lucky, lucky me.

The result of said niggling pain is a reluctance to move said left arm and keep it as still as possible. In the short term this worked fine, but now it’s debateable what is more noticeable, the tight white bandage or the strawberry red hand which marks the collection point for bodily fluids. Despite appearances I’m still electing to go for ugly hand over hurty arm. Spending a day carrying out tasks with one arm brings no rewards but plenty of challenges. Prepping food, putting headphones on, bodily functions. Right now I am typing this, to the best of my ability, with one hand. In fact not even one hand, one index finger. And my gosh it’s so tedious, every upper case letter takes forever to implement! Going back to correct frequent typos takes forever (if you’re reading this and spotted many missed mistakes I’ve overlooked, sorry but not sorry – same for grammar). I’m currently pumping myself full of sugar to stay motivated enough to type one fingered. There could also be a number of drugs messing with my head, this I’m not too sure of because everything I write is just as equally likely to be natural, wacky, me. It reminds me of the days at school before I learnt to join up writing, when every letter was written out one. By. One. It also reminds me of when Mumma Bennett used to insist on typing each letter on the keyboard.

“Let me help you mum.”
“No, it’s ok.”
“But it’s so painful to watch!”

Today’s events have also reinforced my firmly held belief that very British person chooses to ignore the blinding obvious out of fear of causing offence. Why do we do it? Say no evil, there is no evil (that’s how it works, right?) Returning back to the office from my not so merry outing with a large white bandage it did cross my mind that the fashion statement might come into water cooler dialogue. I had it all prepped, “oh goodness Alice, are you ok?” someone would say. “It’s fine,” I’d wave off “just medication, this is temporary.” Total times I had to pull out this comment? 0. Now, I will accept that I wasn’t particularly desperate to tell my co-workers the full details, but I was surprised by the lack of comment. People looked at the bandage enough, so much that I was actually quite relieved that the medical wrapping wasn’t positioned on my head or chest. They knew it was there, some of them may have even notified my attempts to shift through paperwork one-handed (FYI not easy) but nope, we will let the strangely limp human carry on. It’s character building. I elected not to tell clients on email/phone of this development. When I am chasing for something or vice versa the last thing either of us care about is the state of my left arm. Do you still have four limbs? Yes. Am I getting my quote today? Yes. Ok, well I’d love to chat but I really would rather not. Bye. Simples.

The minor pain will be gone by tomorrow, but going through this makes me value those who have to put up with pain constantly. Fair play to those sorts because, as you can tell, I’ve barely made it through twelve hours without going cuckoo. I feel like Peter Griffin that one time he was in a wheelchair.

(Apologises for image quality, YouTube scroungers can’t be choosers)

I’d like to write more on this but my right arm is beginning to ache from the typing, my left arm has been stung my wasps again and my brain is trying to work out how the stuff to prepare dinner and tomorrow’s lunch with minimal limb usage. It’s going to be interesting and quite likely coffee stained. Who knows, maybe we’ll get a hot beverage burn in there for good measure.

Blood Stained Shoes and Ripped Tights: Thursday 18th February

Thursday 18th February

*Just heading back to the office. Text later. Xx*

“Jesus! You alright love?!”

“Do I look alright?! No, really! Am I hurt?”

“Urm, no, just blood. A lot of blood.”

“Ok, thanks. See ya!”

“Wait! Are you sure you’re ok?! You’ve just fallen over!”

“I’m fine thanks!”


“No, I can still use my hands. I didn’t put my hands out to save myself. I don’t know why. I was carrying a bag in one hand, the other didn’t come out in time. No, no recent brain surgery. No, I can read. No, I didn’t black out. No, there’s no history of epileptic fits in my family. No, I can’t see my face for bruising. It hurts everywhere. No, I can’t pin point it down, it all hurts. Yes, I’m pretty sure it’s due to the fall. I fell on my face. No, I told you my hands are fine. I don’t know how serious it is, that’s why I’m calling you. Yes, I can talk still. No, I hadn’t been drinking. No, I don’t have any blood related diseases…”


“Here, shall I take photos of you before I bandage you up?”

“Urm, sure. Is it that bad?”

“Lets say you’ll want to see this when you’re all bandaged up. Have you got a camera?”

“Yeah, here you go.”

“I’ll take a few…”


“…Wow, this is a very good camera. Injuries in high definition! You’ll love looking back at these later! Something to put up to get followers.”


“Ok, you’re going to scar on your foot. They let the skin dry and I doubt we can save it.”

“That’s ok. It’s only small. I care more about my face if I have to be honest.”

“Wait there, I’ve got to discuss how we’re going to do this with someone else. You’re pretty bad and I want to avoid you scaring.”

“Sure, I mean no scaring to the face would be preferable.”


“How did you do that? You walk that same route everyday.”

“Why didn’t you use your hands?”

“Your face actually hit the pavement?”

“Where are you now? Did your parents come and pick you up in the end?”


Friday – Sunday

*Why can’t I sleep? Why won’t the tablets work? Someone, anyone, please just take this pain away. Give me extra days bed bound and bored, or a passing dizzy spell, but the pain. Please just leave me for a couple of hours so I can sleep.*



“Are you ok? You seem pretty down today”

“I just have no energy. What energy I do have I can’t use because I can’t walk without pain. I can’t do anything for myself.”


“India, help bring the bags in for Alice.”


“We’re concerned for her, she’s in pain. It’s her knee, her hands are fine. Yeah, her knee must have gone down then her face. No, her hands are fine. Would you say she should go to minor injuries? Yep, that’s what we thought. Warwick or Stratford? Ok, and her face, they’ve told her to keep these bandages on, but what do you think? She thinks it’s just grazing, but the nurses at Swindon said she had to wear them for a week before taking them off. Yep, we thought that was the case, but then we’re not medics in this house! Ok, thanks Jill.”



“So you fell on Thursday and your knee is still bad?”


“When you fell did you make any attempt to save yourself?”

“No, I hit the pavement with my face and knee. I don’t know why but I failed to use my hands.”

“Did you black out perhaps? What caused you to fall?”

“I didn’t black out, there was a man there. He was chatting to his friend on the phone. I don’t know what caused the fall, I wasn’t looking at my feet at the time.”

“Well, the x rays show that nothing is broken. Just rest it up and let nature take it’s time. Don’t rush to put weight on it and try to not walk long distances for a couple of days.”

“I walk a lot. I don’t have a car, so there’s little I can do about that.”

“Sorry, we don’t give crutches out unless the bone is broken. It’s for the best if you manage without one.”



“Ah, so you saw the photos then! Yeah, she insisted they took photos of her face so she could show her boss or write some blog post on it. You know what they’re like nowadays. No, she didn’t use her hands. None of us really know why, but then these things happen. Almost happened to me the other day. Case of slow reactions I suppose and how you trip up. No, she hasn’t looked into any no win, no fee agencies. Why? Should she…?”



“You sure you’re ok to go back to work?”

“I’m ready to go back. I want to get on with life now. I’m done with being dependant, unable to do anything while life goes on around me.”


Wednesday (today)

“Alice! You’re back? How are you feeling?”

“Let me know if I can help in any way. Can I get you anything from town?”

“Aren’t those the shoes you fell over in?”

“Huh, guess they are. Blood stained and tainted with bad memories. I’ll have to buy some more when I can.”

“Come on you, let’s get you back home.”


It’s been a roller coaster week, but for once I’m thankful that the world keeps spinning.