The woman at the walk in centre frowned at me.
"Does this hurt?" she said, prodding around my elbow tip
Me, gasping: "Uh, a bit"
Her: "Hmm, I wonder if it's broken - you really ought to have an x-ray"
Me, aghast: "I'm sure it's not broken" thinking "I don't want to spend hours in A&E"
Her, firmly: "You need to have it x-rayed to be sure"
So I went and sat in A&E, having got past the triage nurse who clearly felt I was malingering and wasting their time. Like I'd be there, wasting my own time, if I had a choice! After 3 hours I was able to say it's not broken. I instantly felt perhaps I was malingering. I mentioned my graze, the nurse was aghast - "It's not a graze, it's an abrasion, a nasty one". Oh, right - not up on my medical jargon, I hadn't realised there was a difference. "It hurts because you've damaged the nerves and taken a lot of skin off" she confirmed. Oh, okay, maybe I wasn't malingering after all.
It still hurts! I am a wuss about having the dressing changed because it hurts so much and bf's bedside manner sucks.
We had a nice time in the New Forest with lots of walking and quite a bit of eating. I was - for me - relatively restrained. I didn't see the off-diet eating as a chance to eat absolutely everything I could but I did have pudding twice in 3 days. And an ice cream. I'm not getting on those scales until I return from Wales and have to fess up. I will be that fat lady singing, I just know it.