I remember the first time I broke a bone as if it was only yesterday.

And it was! I’ve managed by some good fortune not to have had a broken bone for my whole life. Untill just past midnight on Sunday.

I’ve managed to fracture a toe. The one referred to as “this one has none” in the nursery rhyme.

Not even a big toe, a proper toe, but the little one next to the littlest one.

I managed to walk into a small upright heater that I’d placed in the hallway to heat the top part of the house. Yes I put the heater there, and I knew it was there. But it was just past midnight and I was moving about the house half asleep, in the dark and on auto-pilot.

Here’s a tip, don’t do that in future.

The toe was at a bit of a right angle, and I nudged it back into place, got into bed and slept on it. Pointless dashing out at midnight.  However next morning it’s unbearable to walk on and it still hurt’s something chronic, or I’m a bit of a wuss. Probably the latter. It makes me wonder how people with real injuries get on.

So anyway at the A&E on Monday Morning having it checked out the Doctor says a couple of things….

When I fist pump as she tells me I have a fracture, and I explain it’s a first broken bone she comments “that was a weird response” and then she says

“Don’t come back next week to tell us it still hurts, we know that already” meaning that at 4-6 weeks of uncomfortable is just that, 4-6 weeks, oh and I get a medical certificate declaring that “I’m fit for work”

So a temporary end to the less of me project whilst I learn to hobble from A to B.

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