So I seem to have broken my arm. And as one of the things I seem to be good at is making is presentations, I got you this thing.
Some stories for you:
When they wanted to take my blood, I had the option of having them cut off my conference bracelets or them digging. I chose digging.
When they found the vein, my blood was super dark. When commented upon, I explained that I was Goff.
The tech holding my very broken arm in very painful positions wore an orange camo lead apron. I insisted on the pink heart-covered one.
Two students and one doctor set my arm. This was the one part I couldn’t look at. Then I hear “you hold it in position and I’ll get her from the other side.” Of course I said “that’s what she said” and then they had to wait for me to quit giggling so I wasn’t shaking.
Love to those who saw me in the ER and who have been feeding, amusing, and petting me. The plate goes in my arm in just over a week. I’ll talk to you more later about being vulnerable and accepting help from friends, but for now I’m angsty enough at the typing.