What novelty there is in having a broken leg has well and truly worn off. If any of you young people were to ask me for advice, I would warn you against any sort of legbone fracturing antics. Yes, you get to swank around on crutches with a plaster cast on. Admittedly you get a couple of months away from work, but it isn’t all gravy.
In fact, if I may slip into the vernacular for a moment, it is rather a fuck on.
For a start there is the hopping. Under normal circumstances I enjoy a hop as much as the next man and, presumably, so do you. As an occasional treat one cannot whack a bit of one-legged action. However, when it is one’s only mode of transport the glamour starts to fade. A life lived on one leg is no life at all. Dash it, I’m a man not a cunting flamingo. This hopping business simply won’t do.
Also, the necessity of staying in can become wearisome. At first glance, the prospect of endless long lie-ins, lazing around watching tv, reading books and listening to music seems pleasing. Three weeks later, cabin fever sets in. The four walls of one’s abode become oppressive, the urge for the open spaces is paramount. The plight of a songbird in a gilded cage seems to fit the circumstances rather neatly. Quite a nifty and original observation that, eh? Don't you go pinching it.
Thankfully, the caprices of the British summertime are such that the confined convalescent is mainly just missing the chance to get soaked in sudden rain showers.
Furthermore, a summer of test match cricket begins this week and the Colonel will be there for every session, cushions plumped and tall, cold drink in hand. So, cheg on office monkeys, you am the twarts.
Finally, a word of advice if you are visiting a person who is sick. You represent the whole world outside of that person’s house and all that is going on out there. Try to entertain them with stories that will astound and amaze, bring them up to date on local affairs and common acquaintances. Discuss events of national and international importance, possibly giving your opinion that things will get worse before they get any better. As a last resort, you can always discuss the weather and how it is not merely the heat that gets you, rather it is the humidity.
Do any of these, but do not, I repeat do not, harp on about the person’s injury, mixing in numerous horror stories of persons who have suffered complications with similar conditions and concluding with your jaundiced opinions on the medical staff of the local hospital.
Quite frankly, we don’t need to hear that type of thing. Go tell it to the marines or put it where the sun refuses to shine. A pox be on all you naysayers and bringers of woe, begone thou foolish knaves.
Thanks for the bread and milk though.
Increase the peace, I’m outta here.