Monday I fell down the stairs with a tumble,
I screamed and cried before starting to grumble.
I knew that I’d broken my wrist again,
The tingling sensation and the throbbing arm pain.
It was three years ago I last did the same,
I fell off a barstool much to my shame.
It was my scaphoid I’d broken in that drunken disaster,
Which ending in having my hand in plaster.
I knew this pain resembled that night,
The thought of more physio filling me with fright.
My partner dropped me at A&E,
Where I sat for an hour or maybe three.
I was scanned straight away confirming what I knew,
“A break in your scaphoid – 6 weeks in plaster for you!”
I can’t wash my hair or bath my son,
I can’t use a knife and have washing not done.
Bathing isn’t easy and I’m struggling to write,
All because I flew down the stairs like a kite.
I’m a little slower than normal, not getting nowhere fast,
Five weeks and counting, left in this cast! 🙁