From the moment I landed on the ice, I knew I was heading to the hospital. And what are the first three thoughts that go through my mind?
#1) Where is my son?#2) I don't have time for this #@$% !
#3) Will I still be able to knit with a cast?
OMG, really? That was #3? Not 'Is there a medic here at the City Hall skating rink'? But rather, 'will I be able to finish the baby blanket for Barb in time'? Seriously?
A day after the misadventure I can see much more clearly. In fact, thanks to my physician's atypical easy-to-read handwriting I can see I was completely wackadoodle due to the adrenaline overload that was surging through my veins. I must have been babbling out loud "thought #3" because that's what he had initially written down as my profession. Ha! After I explained that I prefer to maintain my amateur status so I can continue to compete in the Knitting Olympics every couple of years we were able to move past the 'profession' confusion. Nice chap that doctor, despite the complete lack of a sense of humour... shame.
So, here I now sit...arm propped up like I'm Queen Lizzy doing the Royal Wave...except definitely not so regal.
Things I have learned so far while being casted:
* Ten year olds and Teenagers have very different ways of expressing 'get well soon' messages on a cast. Both are sweet...but one almost made me pee my pants. Which brought me to my next realization:
* I need more Yoga pants. It's the winter. Nylons, tights and skinny jeans are no-can-do's until this bloody thing is off. But here's the problem...one of the reasons I went skating yesterday is because I loathe 'Boxing Week' shopping. I don't care if it is 50% off, I am not lining up for 2 hours in the hope that LuLuLemon has a deal on yoga pants in my size. But if I want to go to the bathroom when I need to go to the bathroom, I may just have to suck it up. * Also, I find it truly amazing that even with only one operational hand, I am still the only person in my household capable of changing the toilet paper roll! (this
discovery led to last night's 7 p.m. swear words).
* I can strip a king sized bed of all its sheets but doubt I can get them back on all by myself (stay tuned for this afternoon's 4 p.m. swear words)* The desire to knit far outweighs the ability to knit... which leads to both boredom and frustration... which leads to one handed typing experiments and cathartic blog blathering. Considering I supplemented my undergrad and graduate income with typing gigs, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised that I would turn to a keyboard. Mind you, the predictive keyboard on the smartphone was a communications life saver yesterday. My 18 month old laptop suddenly seems antiquated.
* I wish I could turn back time ... but I can't frog this one back a few lines and correct my dumb*ss mistake. Knitting bones takes longer than knitting yarn. I better start realizing that a cast-cozy should be my next project.
