A Day One Handed.

6am alarm goes off after an awful nights sleep. Instinctively I go to use my right hand to turn it off and instantly grimis in pain. Second thought? Where's the painkillers?!

After a trip to the bathroom and putting on my dressing gown I venture downstairs to make a drink. Ever tries filling the kettle one handed?  I make both Andy and I a drink and attempt to pick both mugs up with my left hand. They wobble and again I try to correct this with my right hand, bugger, pain shoots across my arm. Again I think painkillers.

Finally I reach upstairs and perch on the end of the bed feeling totally knackered.

After I drink my tea I begin the task of a quick one handed wash and brushing my teeth. This in itself looks ridiculous! Tooth brush in my mouth with my good hand squeezing tooth paste onto it. Finally that task gets completed.

Next is getting dressed. Pants are fine, my bra on the other is not. Thankfully hubby offers help, only after having a good laugh at me first mind.  Before getting fully dressed he creams my tan for me reminding me with a cheeky grin that my plastered arm will look like its dead when the cast comes off! Bless him!

Finally the dress is on and as I manage to put my make up on and brush my hair,( which looks like a mad 80's hair do!)I realise that straightening my locks is an impossible task without help and hubby is not the one to help do it.  So instead on goes a head band making the best of a bad situation. Even worse for me flat shoes! After a quick biscuit I can finally take my pain killers, yeah!

6.50am and off to the station we go. It's the only way I can get to my meetings and I have arranged to meet a colleague in Bristol to be driven round. The only plus side is my ticket is first class! Same price as a normal single ticket to be fair.

7.15am and I'm on the train being served a nice cup of tea, cheekily asking if they could take the lid off for me. After fumbling to get my ticket out of my purse the kind ticket collector takes pity on me and gives me a hand. (no pun intended!) Bacon butty is served along with a paper and I sit back to enjoy the rest of the journey.

9am I arrive at Bristol train station.  My colleague advises me he is 5 minutes away. 6 minutes later I receive a phone call asking which station I am at and yes he is at different one!

9.30am finally jump into the car and begin retelling the tale of my broken wrist.

10am arrive at Cardiff for first meetings. All I want to do is go home.

12.30 lunch before shooting off to the next location. My sandwiches had to opened for me as did my crisps. (oh the shame!) Time for more pain killers, yeah!

1.15pm reach Abergavenny for next two meetings.

4pm arrive in Chepstow for final meetings of the day. Would have reached sooner but we sailed pass the exit and ended up having to pay to go back over the bridge again, oops. Feeling tired and achy now.

5.30pm sat at Chepstow station waiting for a train home. Knackered and in pain. All I can hear in my head is hubbies voice telling me "told you not to go, you should be resting!" so grin and bear it hoping the train hurries up.

5.50pm finally onboard the train.  The ticket collector helps me buy my ticket and I close eyes hoping I open them in time to hop off at Cheltenham.

6.30pm I hop off at Cheltenham ready for the Manchester bound train that will drop me in Wolverhampton. The wrist is really painful and I'm shattered, but have no drink to take my tablet with doh!

6.42pm finally on the last train. I close my eyes.

7.50pm Hop off the train and into a taxi home.

8pm Walk into home. So relieved to be home I could cry. Hubby is chilling on the sofa, thanks for picking my up hun, not! No tea ready either. Epic fail! Warm up left overs and take tablets. Too cross to talk plus "I told you so!" is floating in the air.

9.30pm Off to bed. Should I have gone? Probably not, but the organisation to arrange these meetings had taken ages and I didn't want to let anyone down.  Did work appreciate it? God I hope so!  Never mind a few days of doing nothing at all is called for now.  If I'm honest  I think people don't realise I am meant to be signed off for 6 weeks! The hardest thing? Asking for help in taking your clothes off when your feeling cross with the person your asking.

X x