violetsnvalium: (Default)
[personal profile] violetsnvalium
Well, looks like my fun is going to be slightly curtailed for a while... Latest X-rays show that my hand is now a million times worse than before, so they have to operate on it. Then a month without moving it, and then a month of hand re-education. The boys have already promised to visit me in the hospital bearing gifts of Jagermeister and shouting "SHOTTTT!", which is very sweet of them. (You don't stay in the hospital for a hand operation, do you? It's just in and out, right? Because I have to feed the cat.)

The other night the owner of my bar came in for a drink and saw me merrily working away with one hand, and said "What are you doing?" I said, "Making a Pina Colada." He said, "What happened to your hand?" I said, "It broke." He called another manager to come in and sent me away. I am not allowed to work until it's fixed (which, in all fairness, would probably have happened anyway now that I have to be operated) and he did not agree that the metal cast thing made an absolutely perfect tray for carrying a champagne bucket above my head. They have taken away the metal cast thing now, though, because it bent my hand the wrong way and is to blame for my slipping bones (the champagne buckets apparently are not!). Now I have a sort of sock thing full of resin and a curled claw hand.

So yesterday after the hospital I angrily stamped around Paris and sat on a terrace and ordered a diet Coke from the waiter. He said "That's so hardcore." I said, "Diet Coke, and don't be stingy baby." So he brought me a huge litre glass of diet Coke with a sparkler in it and more sparklers in his hands to decorate the table. Then I stamped angrily to another bar to see my barman friend and eat chocolate cake, and couldn't use the spoon very well with my left hand, so my friend tried to shovel it into my mouth and then we drank shots, and a table of businessmen sent me champagne, and it was 1.30pm and I was already getting drunk. So I stamped in an angry wooze to the Champs Elysées and bought myself concert tickets to fill up my gaping free time (Liszt and fireworks in the park next Thursday!) and wandered into the metro. People looked at me funny. Maybe because of the midnight blue silk evening gown and black lace bolero and black flower behind my ear, coupled with the giant hand-paw in the resin sock.

Ended up back at work, with my equally blonde friend, drinking more and trying to seduce the poor DJ by writing his name on my leg. Then suddenly I was bored.

So I went home.


Ah, he loves it, you can tell. (Not really so much.)

Date: 2011-06-24 02:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sometimes I am insanely jealous of your life.

Date: 2011-06-24 03:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Anyone can do it! You just have to lose all grip on reality. Ooh! You might know! Do I have to stay in the hospital when they operate me?

Date: 2011-06-24 04:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
You'll probably be in and out, but I'd have somebody on standby to feed the cat just in case. You know, because given your propensity for accidental dramatics, you will probably have a ridiculous reaction to anesthesia and end up getting admitted.

Okay, I will work on releasing my grip on reality. And then I will be in Paris to hang out with you.

Date: 2011-06-24 06:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Jesus, don't be giving my body any ideas. But do come to Paris! We can roam.

Date: 2011-06-24 03:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] angela t (from
Mari, I can't believe you're not fictional.

Date: 2011-06-24 03:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sometimes I think the same thing. But I'm usually just drunk and confused.

Date: 2011-06-24 03:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Holy cow, what a mess. Good luck with the surgery and therapy. At least you're still having fun.

I doubt you'll have to stay in the hospital for just your hand. In the States it would be outpatient SDS (same day surgery) for sure. But in Paris, who knows? They actually pay for HEALTHCARE there.

Date: 2011-06-24 03:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
They pay for part of healthcare, but not all of it! I really miss the British NHS sometimes. I'll find out soon anyway. Thanks for the well-wishing!

Date: 2011-06-24 04:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Obviously your life is crazy. Mainly because you seem pretty blase about most of the stuff that happens to you, which makes it seem like there's this big force field around you. Which, y'know, is a cool idea, true or not.


Date: 2011-06-24 06:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I'm not really blasée, I'm just kind of... not easily surprised. I like the things that happen and I find them interesting. Even my smashed-up hand is quite interesting. Life is a fun place.

Date: 2011-06-24 06:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I am simply tip-top at feeding cats. It's almost the only thing I can be bothered to get up to do these days. I'd feed yours too; but Paris is a long way for a person whose leg still isn't working properly to walk.

I'd say something sympathetic, but really I'm just jealous. I'd much rather have a hand that didn't work than a leg that didn't work. You always get the best injuries.

Date: 2011-06-24 07:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
In complete agreement with you. Having a non-functional leg must be hellishly frustrating. Ah well, we don't really get to decide about this kind of thing, and you get through it. It's what cursing lurid oaths was invented for.

Date: 2011-06-24 07:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
And knitting. And Noel Coward plays.

Date: 2011-06-24 08:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Knitting doesn't work out so well for me and my sock-paw. I prefer gin.

Date: 2011-06-24 08:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
True. You only need one hand for that.

How big IS your paw, anyway?

Date: 2011-06-25 03:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
aw -- good luck with the hand surgery! just give the cat a GIANT BOWL OF FOOD!


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