Stick

A not too early trip back to London for Mr B, while I did some work within a timeframe that even impressed my hard-to-please client. Later, 'work' for Mr B (something he was paying TallGirl for, but the part two deadline was so long she forgot about it).

Then off to a new-to-us doctor, as our normal one is sick - ironic huh, to get CarbBoy certified fit for basketball by the deadline (imposed last night) of today. On the way in, I stepped aside to avoid a car trying to reverse over me, and fell off the kerb. Cue agonising pain and a not inconsiderable amount of Anglo Saxon vocabulary. CarbBoy helped me limp into the doctors (is it International Irony Day or something?) where he was pronounced fit and well, given permission to play for the under 15 team (eek) and a prescription for vitamin D (I think they have a push on that in France this winter).

I hobbled (fairly mobile at this point) back to the car and the day carried on. It all went south in the early evening. Despite doing all the things you are supposed to do (RICE, plus ibuprofen), I now can't walk without a stick (and accompanying sobbing and cursing). Though I appreciate a break from the snoring, I'm suddenly not liking the living-in-different-countries bit of our lifeplan.

Hurrah for the school bus. Now to contemplate stair-climbing....