Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Slightly foxed

The lovely term used by second hand booksellers to describe less than pristine books seems a suitable one to apply to me at the moment.

In the wake of the soupy eyes saga, I bring you the fractured finger furore.

I'm resilient - which is just as well as I don't have the best record in terms of minor accidents.  I mention this because I fell over in the garden last week and smacked several bits of myself quite hard against paving stones and walls.  Among them, my right hand. 

Everything except the index finger is now fine if a bit bruised, but clearly all is not well with the offended (and offending) digit.  Can't pick up heavy things with it.  Can type, but not with pressure.  Concensus is minor fracture.  Treatment?  None.  Take ibruprofen and use it as little as possible.

Any typing errors in the next few days will be me trying to follow this advice.


  1. Holy "OWWIE!" Batman. You have my sympathy. I hate breaking bones that can't be treated by anything other than being careful and taking ibuprofen. Little toes are like that, and they're always reaching out to large pieces of furniture in the dark and getting themselves borked.

  2. Toes are also awful. I punctured my foot with a d4 once and it was agony. Hilarious too, of course, but agony.