Disaster!

On Thursday night disaster struck.

It started like any other Thursday evening: at about 5pm I put my new contact lenses in and prepared to leave work for the badminton court. I reached the courts at about 5:25 and was ready to play at just after 5:30. Unfortunately no one else had turned up. So I waited. And I waited. I was almost thinking of giving up fifteen minutes later when people started showing up. "Finally" says I, "I was beginning to think nobody would show up." "You could have played against yourself" exclaimed one wag. "At least I would get some decent competition" I goaded with a laugh.

And so, finally, the badminton was underway.

After a number of enjoyable games it reached 7pm and I prepared to go and shower. However, three people wanted to play and needed a fourth. "Will you not join us for one more game?" they pleaded" "Oh" says I, with gruesome prescience, "I'm sure you can twist my arm."

At this point time splits in two. In one time, a good time, I say (as I usually do) "sorry, I need to have a shower and eat." I have a shower. We order pizzas and garlic bread, and eat. I go off to see a band play in Sutton whilst the others go off to their various homes.

In the other, disaster!

I find myself paired with my tournament partner and fellow champion. "You realise" say I "that as reigning champions we cannot lose this game". He just laughs.

And so it began.

It was a valiant game with both pairs struggling for points. We gained an early lead but our opponents caught up, and then overtook. And then, contending over a vital point it happened. A high overhead shot had me running backwards. Somehow I went back too far. Gravity took over and I lost my balance. What happened next is just a jumble in my mind. I recall that I was dangerously close to the wall. I tried to save myself. And landed on my arm... badly. The pain was excruciating.

After I had composed myself to a certain degree I took myself to the other side of the court to clutch my arm in pain for a while. When it was clear the pain wasn't going away I went to the changing room to get myself back into normal clothing. Much to my chagrin I had to be helped to put on one of my socks and to tie my shoelaces (try tying your shoes with one hand).

By then it had been decided that I should go to the hospital to have it checked in case it was broken. I seemed to have a certain amount of movement so hope was good.

In Epsom General Hospital I am treated to long waits in several different waiting rooms between which I have blood taken and x-rays taken. The conclusion: I have a fractured elbow.

Bugger!

Still, I am a lot better off than the poor people who were blown up by the suicide bombs earlier that day. Unfortunately, due to said bombs all hospitals in and around London are on emergency footing and no beds are available for me. I am plastered up in a temporary cast and sent home.

To be continued...