Wednesday started non-eventfully and ended with me tucked up in bed feeling very sorry for myself. Just before lunch I was walking down the stairs at work and had just started down the second flight when all of a sudden I was pitching forward, thinking "&#$%, this is going to hurt" and sliding down the remaining steps a bit in the fashion of a Winnie the Pooh being bumped down the stairs by Christopher Robin. I came to a stop at the bottom, having very cleverly managed to land in the recovery position. Very helpful I was. A mental inventory of the painful bits noted a sore neck, head, arm and then increasingly demandingly, left index finger.

Having ascertained that I was conscious and at least vaguely lucid, I was carted off to A&E by Helen, who was most impressed and not a little alarmed by the state of my index finger which had swelled alarmingly and was looking rather skew-whiff. After a surprisingly short wait at A&E I was xrayed to the nth degree and told that luckily nothing was broken, so ice the finger, take this script for codeine and go home and rest. So now I am sporting a spectacular bruise on my arm (see below) about which Tyler said "Ooh I like that Mummy, it's like a rainbow!". My index finger has improved markedly so that I can now completely straighten and partially bend it. And the worst thing about the whole incident? I missed the first touch game of the season, dang it!

Ironically, Tyler was at fracture clinic the next morning having his foot re-checked to see how the bone was mending. Perhaps we should be asking for a family discount :)