An act of incredible folly.

I am currently typing this one handed and am on a cocktail of drugs and am very pissed off with myself. In Austria, I had a few minor mishaps, and then one slightly more serious one where I sprained my wrist. All was good and it was healing nicely until lunchtime today when I tripped over a paving stone. I wasn’t watching where I was going and had my head in the clouds. I put my hands out, as you do instinctively, to break my fall. I forgot about my injured wrist. But it remembered it was hurt I can tell you. I couldn’t stand up without help and then actually blacked out from the pain for a few seconds. Two lovely police officers helped me into a nearby shop, put my head between my knees, shielded me from curious onlookers while I cried in agony, and called a paramedic for me. He said I had just fainted from the shock, but I was horribly embarrassed. I went back to work but couldn’t stop shaking so one of my lovely workmates called me a cab and sent me home. Now, it hurts a hell of a lot more than it did when I first injured it. And I’ve tripped and almost fallen in the exact same spot before. Why wasn’t I paying attention when I knew I was hurt? Crap.