Over the last few days I'd been getting seriously exercised about all I needed to do for Lent...there were leaflets to write & copy, courses to produce & publicise...& of course palms to burn! As parish life doesnt tend to stop to make space for these excitements, & as I was predictably determined that everything should be just right this first year as a grown up vicar, I was chasing my tail rather & caught myself wishing once or twice that it would all disappear & leave me to rest.
I honestly didnt say anything to anyone about broken arms, though...
However yesterday, after a tasty lunch with a good friend, nemesis struck! One second I was crossing the kitchen & about to open the dog gate, the next i was sprawled on the foor with my left arm lying what seemed to be some distance off, at a thoroughly unwholesome angle.
Lovely friend, Dufflepud & LCM take counsel while I swear a bit. NHS direct are consulted as to relative merits of taking me to hospital themselves or waiting for paramedics. At this stage my refusal to move.an.inch rather takes over. Enter delightful paramedic, who tries to get me high on entonox while failing to find a vein to inject something stronger (they couldn't find a vein last time I gave blood, so really not his fault). More discussions.
A real live ambulance is summoned & in due course appears. Still no morphine but it's time to leave the kitchen floor to its own devices. Who knew sitting up could present such a challenge ? - but after what seemed like several hours it is accomplished & we're off...along the route I had planned to take to visit a parishioner in hospital that very afternoon. I decide that a visit from a pallid vicar muttering small obscenities may be less than reassuring...maybe a phonecall will do?
A&E is predictably busy with weekend sportsmen, so we wait...for triage...for an x ray...for a doctor to interpret this & pronounce a spiral fracture of the upper arm...for a temporary plaster...for some PAIN RELIEF!!! Everyone is kind, competent, everything you could possibly hope for but by now I am exhausted, woozy & longing to go home. They decide not to pin the bone (apparently I am classes as young & fit...hmmmnn) and send us off with an appointment for the morning. On the way back I marvel at the impact of speed humps & reflect that it's going to interesting discerning which bits of work to attempt, what I can lay aside delaring myself "off sick" & decide that probably my arm will be a sufficient Lentern exercise in itself.