AN IDIOT ABROAD

xray

Little Draffin recently came to stay with me in Grenoble, (little Draffin being my brother not my child…) It was his first time boarding on real snow so it was pretty much my intention to throw him down some reds and hope he survived. Turns out the universe had other plans as I ended up crushing my own wrist and breaking some bones. CRACKIN’. Being told by an extremely flippant French doctor that I’d need a bolt in my arm shook me up a little, and paying for a plaster cast and an x-ray (160 euros?!!?!?!) shook my bank account even more. With an operation apparently unavoidable it would’ve been impossible to keep paying for, then claiming back, all this expensive medical stuff, so flights home were booked. An equally good decision considering I couldn’t even pull my residence bed down and climb up into it with only one functional arm. Sleeping on the floor is not my favourite.

Within an hour of landing I was in another hospital acting as the rope in a two man tug of war on my wrist – clickety click click click. So now I guess I’ll just sit tight for my op, still not sure when it’ll be so I can’t really book flights back to France yet ): My sudden one-armedness also inconveniently means that most of my uni work is almost at a standstill. A painter would have better luck keeping up productivity I guess, but as a sculptress? Trying to make casts or manipulating materials one handed is a tricky feat. Though “watch as I artistically chase this escaping ball of clay across the studio” could work. Don’t get me wrong this is only my wrist so I think I’ll live…but this whole breaking bones thing is becoming a bit of a joke now. When I was younger I broke a few bones in quick succession – my right arm when someone jumped on it, my left arm when I fell out of a car (…that wasn’t moving), and my nose because I was rocking on my chair (I’m the reason the teachers told you not to do it in school.) So sure, I’m sort of getting used to taking baths looking like Wicus from District 9 (when he hides his alien arm in a carrier bag), and causing entertainment for those around me simply by attempting to spread cheese on a cracker one handed, “STAY STILL DAMNIT!” but I still feel…inconvenienced. OK pity party over.

district 9 arm

The irony of this post coming literally a month after the start of the season is not lost on me. And I would just like to take a moment to thank my wrist guard company…for ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

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