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Tuesday, 30 September 2003

fractured femur

Mood:  accident prone
Now Playing: my anguish filled screams, vying against neighbour's muffled telly sounds

Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!

Not only is my nose running onto the keyboard, the cats are heat-seeking missiles (ie, pestering me constantly to sleep on my shoulder), and I emanated noxious fluid onto the sofa.
Further humiliation was to arrive when I tried to simultaneously uncross legs, avoid leaning on either cats, hop over PC, navigate items strewn across the furry rug, and take back to the kitchen the remains of an old sweetcorn tin (all the better for chucking up later) (I've degraded one day beneath sadbastardreadymeal).
Note to self: do not jump over things while carrying breakables when your leg has gone dead.

Landed fairly effectively, although with loud cracking sound as dead leg failed to hold upright, keeling me totally over, and pitching the contents of my sweetcorn tin everybloodywhere.
Spent five good minutes rolling around the rug ... clutching leg ... screaming ... waving off nosey cats (for whom this constitutes almost as much excitement as a litter change) ... screaming a bit more for effect. Then thought about it a bit, and realised I still couldn't feel my leg below the ankle.
This could of course mean that it was hanging by a thread. Tried a few more tentative screams, and felt to see if foot was still attached. Screamed instinctively when I touched it, and again a few times in case it hurt.
Decided to sprawl on the floor choking in putrefied sweetcorn juice, mangled limbs dangling until I starved to death and THEN the world would be sorry, but I became bored.
After a few seconds, the feeling came back to my leg, and I got up and cleared the sweetcorn away.

I swear I heard it crack.

This page graced by sarsparilla at 8:59 PM BST
Updated: Tuesday, 30 September 2003 11:27 PM BST
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Tuesday, 30 September 2003 - 10:41 PM BST

Name: lemonpillows
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Ooooh... have done that one too.. frequently... still feeling the consequences in my elbow after the "carrying a paint covered puppy over a bed coz there's too much junk and wet paint to walk round the bed" scenario...

And re. the sweetcorn - you don't need to start worrying until you sink to the level of potatoes from a tin with mini hot-dogs/curry (also from a tin) and week old bread to mop it up. :-p Then having nowhere to put the tins because the bin is full and you refuse to go outside AGAIN to empty the bin. It's a matter of principle...

Tuesday, 30 September 2003 - 10:46 PM BST

Name: Vanessa

Oh @#%$!. That (the tins) was last week! And then there's remicrowaving the hotdogs the next day, leaving them in the microwave overnight, then eating them cold the next day anyway.

Now I'm really worried.

Tuesday, 30 September 2003 - 11:16 PM BST

Name: yidaho
Home Page:

LOL.. that's just reminded me of the first time I ever experienced a dead leg (a 'gone-to'sleep' leg as we called it then). I was about 8 or 9 and had been kneeling whilst knitting (hard to believe, I know).. I leant behind me to pick up the scissors and in doing so brushed by my 'dead' foot, which I'd been unaware of up until that point... I screamed to my mother "My foot's turned to wool".. I truly believed that I'd incurred some kind of knitting curse!

Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 1:28 AM BST

Name: Vanessa

hehehe.... my ankle is swelling slightly now - it's practically invisible to the naked eye, but allows me to log on and internet shop for Ben and Jerry's to make up for the 'pain'.
The ex-DH came in drunk and swore it was swollen, so it must be. She also helped me get the lid off the Night Nurse I have blogged so much about, yet still not tasted. It tastes like raw sewage.

Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 1:34 AM BST

Name: Vic Lezzinator
Home Page:

Like an old-woman's ovaries I have dried up a bit of late, but HRT is kicking in so I return to participation.

I used to love inducing a numbed limb only to try and comedically use it. I know what it's like to be paralysed, and it's hilarious. I must have looked like the genuine Joey in those days. I don't do it anymore because I'm an adult now, I have pubes and everything.

Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 1:52 AM BST

Name: Vanessa

Watch where you bandy about your old women's ovaries comments, I'm so self-pitying today that I may just take offence.

And besides, you look every bit the Joey these days, also, when you really try.


Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 7:19 AM BST

Name: dave
Home Page:

Oh bugger!

I had hot dogs last night.

And a tin of sweetcorn the night before that.

Kill me now.

Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 12:22 PM BST

Name: Looby
Home Page:

Is it really broken?

Major illnesses affecting everyone - the internet crumbling under worms and viruses - sounds like The Return of Real Life!

Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 1:03 PM BST

Name: Tess

Poor you - do you want oddles and oodles of sympathy?

And as for the people who comment - Vic Lezzinator? lol

Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 1:25 PM BST

Name: Vanessa

I'm afraid, Mr Newt, there is no hope for you. I can only urge you to enjoy what little time you have left - for it is only six short hours, at best, before you revert to tins of cold baked beans.

Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 1:28 PM BST

Name: Vanessa

No, I don't need any sympathy, now, I had prescription drugs instead, but thanks, sweetie.

The Lezzinator refers to his cruelly cutting comments about minging shoes. :-O

Wednesday, 1 October 2003 - 1:32 PM BST

Name: Vanessa

Oh dear. I didn't mean anyone to actually be taken in by my self-pitying whines, and I'm sure you were covering your immediate comprehension of my true deceitful nature by being polite. I actually have a mild sprain today, and was quite surprised. It was really so minor that I wondered if I hadn't made it all up.

Perhaps if I get worms as well as crumbling bones and viruses, then I'll merge into the Internet itself?

Friday, 3 October 2003 - 3:35 PM BST

Name: Martin Sewell
Home Page:

You already are the acceptable face of the Internet.

Friday, 3 October 2003 - 5:26 PM BST

Name: Vanessa


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