Squeamish?

A little hard work never hurt anyone. Though it might have spilt a bit of blood.

The concreting is finished, the chicken house is cleaned out, the slabs are moved to the shed, and the broken greenhouse glass has been removed. The finger received its wound in between two and three, I think I clipped it off the wall, but can't be sure as I didn't actually notice until I realised the plastic glove I had on was slowly filling with blood...

This kind of thing I've never had a problem with. Cuts, scrapes, breaks, I started them all pretty young and it's just part of life. It's only later the squeamish side kicks in. Last year I broke my arm, a really nasty one completely screwing up the elbow. I was fine, didn't touch any nerves, even tried to drive to the hospital, until I realised it had swollen up like Popeye's forearm...

At first i refused the morphine - they gave it to me anyway, and I realised how easy it would be to become addicted to that stuff. Yay for morphine!

Three days later (don't you just love the NHS), after being sent home, recalled in panicked because it was more serious than they thought, delayed twice and moved ward, I was ready to go under the knife. The anaesthetist arrived and gave me the option of a local. I could even watch on a monitor as they opened up my arm and drilled in, setting it with screws, plates and wires.

Erm. No thanks guys. Wake me up when it's over.

Maybe it's worrying that I know I heal well. 10 days after the reconstruction of my anterior cruciate ligament I was walking 2 miles without crutches to my first physio appointment (and got a bollocking), one week after the surgery on my arm, which didn't need plaster as I was now a bionic man, I was driving and hillwalking on Skye. It was with relish I took off my bandages the requisite number of days later to see the 12 or 13 staples that were holding the skin together - I was back into that non-squeamish frame of mind.

So a cut finger, a bit of blood, meh. You'll be glad to know there's a plaster on it now...