So I went to the doctor this morning.
I went to work yesterday and was so miserable, and in so much pain, that I had to go home.
So today the doctor took off the cast, and created a half shell for me. He also told me I had to make up my mind that I wasn’t going to be able to work for a while. He also says that he wants to do surgery on my arm, because when the bone cracked, part of the bone slipped down and he wants to pin it back into place.
So I finally got the name of a lawyer, and I’m setting up an appointment for as soon as possible, because I just don’t think this is right. I mean, this is fucking with my ability to work. The other thing is, unless they pay for it, there’s no way I’m going to be able to afford to have this surgery.
After I left the doctor, I sat in Lord Harris Square for twenty minutes, smoked a cigarette and worked on “Selling Hot Pussy” by bell hooks. It’s my third or fourth read of this brilliant essay, but it’s always illuminating.
I went to work afterwards, planned next week’s production flow, turned in my sick leave and my travel allowance sheet and came home, for the beginning of another two weeks of sick leave.
I don’t know how I feel. After this two weeks at home, I have to get another X-ray and hopefully the arm will allow me to go back to work.
At any rate, the half cast is a move forward. I took my first shower without the cast for the first time in two weeks and it was bliss to let the hot water run over my body. I really missed it. buttongoddess promised to come and help me wash my hair, because I desperately want my hair to be clean, and I can’t get my arm up over my head to do it!
See, life really, truly is grounded in simple pleasures.
I am a little frustrated, and finding it hard to sleep with the arm, so it’s back to Panadol PMs for me.
Blech!
I hate incapacitation.
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