Devastation

I've sometimes gone to extreme lengths to justify my behaviour, but Sweet Baby Jesus in a Monkees t-shirt singing Daydream Believer at Blundstone Arena, I think I've overcooked it this time!

Here I was getting along really well with my teetotaling. Feeling comfortable, optimistic, then Tuesday this happens:

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Well, it didn't go exactly like that. And BeeTeeDub, that's "Aunt" Ethel (Zim)Merman taking one for the team. I wish she'd been there on Tuesday to take one for me!

But after a month of nursing a hamstring injury, I finally, duly and spectacularly, RIPPED IT FROM THE BONE with a thunderous sound reminiscent of the time they peeled Letterman in a velcro suit off this wall:

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After I choked back the bile and the urge to black out, I summoned some friends and co-workers to get me to the Emergency Department. 

We did an ultrasound for the damage, and an x-ray to determine if any bone had been detached. The consensus prior to the orthopaedic surgeon arriving was that I'd torn one or two of the three heads of my hamstring AWAY FROM THE BONE! 

They were however baffled that I didn't have any bruising or swelling. Not that they offered me anything. At all. NOT EVEN AN ICEPACK, GRANT! Eventually I was offered pain meds that make me vomit. I declined.

I felt like a Christmas ham. Eventually, the ortho came and said I needed an MRI to confirm the diagnoses, but that SURGERY WAS NECESSARY. The MRI was scheduled for 9PM that night. WTF Tasmania? Maybe we only have one MRI machine in the whole state, so they have to run it 24/7? Is that it, poorest state in the Commonwealth?

By the time I left the ED I could put weight on the leg, despite only taking Nurofen. I asked for a booze stop on the way home, just in case. There was no need that night, and I went to sleep with my icepack.

Then, Wednesday, this happened:

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I did what any anti-homophobic, inclusive feminist would do: 

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Till that sucker was dry!

Mate came down from Sydney to watch the cricket on Thursday. We ran around most of the day Friday taking advantage of someone to drive me. Including the ortho who booked in the following Friday to repair, not ONE not TWO but THREE HEADS of the hamstring. I am nothing if not thorough!

Doc said I could do what I felt like doing up to the surgery. So we decided to hit the town on Friday:

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And cricket on Saturday. By public transport. On crutches. With rain forecast. And 10C/ 50F. And beer. 

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By 3pm I was gutted, and ready to put the leg up. It was a great "last bash" before 2-3 weeks recovery from surgery FOR TEARING MY HAMSTRING OFF THE BONE.

I'll stay dry for the next week leading up to surgery.

Takeaways

1. injuries trump no sobriety - I'll let you fill in the capitals and punctuation.
2. Sometimes a night on the town is good.
3. Cricket = beer. Queues and mid-strength make it hard to overdo it.
4. Pain meds mean no need for alcohol. When do I get them?
5. Don't make decisions when you've detached muscle from bone AND a sociopath is elected leader of the free-world.