Madri-Gal
Well-Known Member
Well, crap. So I fell and put my hand out to break the fall. It hurt. Of course it hurt. I fell on it. Why wouldn't it hurt? Only it didn't stop hurting, and the pages were flying off the calender like in the old movies. I figured I'd call my doctor because I wanted to complain to someone who had to listen. People get tired of fussing and whining, and I'd gone through the volunteers, and needed to move on to paid professionals that had to hear the litany of complaints. My need for attention demands the best, after all. I wanted to say, My hand hurts! Ouch! That sort of thing. Needed to get it out there. Needed someone with many years of education to tell me how much Tylenol to take in a 24 hour period. Needed someone in a white coat to tell me to ice and elevate. The first few days I handled things in a quiet and dignified manner, but it was time to whimper.
Looks what they gave me for my trouble.
Next time I stay home.
Next time I stay home.