I'm going to the hospital today, seven weeks since I broke my arm while falling off a motorcycle. I'll be having it X-rayed to see if the fracture is healing and will, hopefully, get some kind of prognosis. The thing is, I am pretty certain that it's more than just a fracture as, even though I have stuck to the exercise routine that was given me by my physiotherapist via video link, I still can't raise my right arm at all. It's not that it hurts when I try. The lights have gone out. There is nobody at home. Maybe I've damaged a nerve, torn a tendon or one of my muscles has gone to sleep? Apparently, this does happen after repeated trauma ... and this is the same shoulder that suffered when I was dumped off a horse in April 2018. This is going to be a long haul and my patience is going to be tried.
So I am going to have to adjust to a new way of life for a little while, at least. Showers instead of baths, as I could never get out of a bath in my current state; Bargain Hunt instead of lesson planning, shaving and brushing my teeth left-handed, jigsaws, crossword puzzles, and repeats of Richard Osman's House of Games. If you put me in a classroom right now, I couldn't pick up a pile of exercise books, let alone write continuously for two hours in order to mark them. I couldn't raise my arm to write on a whiteboard or carry my books and equipment round from classroom to classroom like some travelling salesman, as my colleagues are expected to do.
I'm going to have to live life differently for a while.