And a good evening to you from across the Pond after another GREAT (and wet) day in the Mother Country. All in all - life is good. Work was crazy today, and I LOVED it. I can feel that Transition pressure starting to ratchet up - bring it, baby!!!!
Tonight the news is all about muffin puffin. First off, check out the newest member of L.A. Fitness! That's right, she's headin' back to the pool, baby! Gooooooooooodbyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Energie Croydon!
In other news, lightning has OFFICIALLY struck twice. Those of you who knew me in my "pre-blog" days know that I went to originally check on this stress fracture back in May of 2009. At the end of a slightly less than thorough (read utter donkey trash to fleece me of cash back when all I had was a co-pay - Ray and Hitman - that was for you) examination, the conversation went like this.
Doctor: "Okay, so it's not a stress fracture. It's a GREEN STICK fracture."
Annoyed Sammy: "What the hell is a GREEN STICK fracture."
Doctor: "It's a break so small you can't even see it in an X-ray."
Shocked Sammy: "Okay, so what does that mean?"
Shocked Sammy: (subliminal) "You really expect me to PAY for this? I should stab you with a soldering iron."
Doctor: (illustrating point by breaking a tonsil swiper in my face) "You see, this stick is broken, but you can't really see it. That's like your foot."
Amazed Sammy: "So what should I do?"
Pissed Sammy: (subliminal - not spoken) "Are you @#$#ing kidding me? I am going to burn your house down for this joke of a diagnosis."
Doctor: "Stay off it."
Sammy: "But it's my foot. I can't really stay off it."
Doctor: "Well, you have to try."
Sammy: "I'm moving to Europe. They WALK there. How long?"
Doctor: "Until it stops hurting."
Sammy: (subliminal) "For nothing you (insert expletive here)."
Receptionist: "That will be $25."
Anyhoo - as you can imagine, the "Green Stick Fracture-gate" became all the joke around the office and at home, and I dismissed that doctor as an absoute crackpot. But oh no, clearly he's a GENIUS. Why you ask? I'll tell you...
So JT's been having some foot pain as well for the last month, and we finally decided that she needed to see someone as well. As fate would have it, we live in he medical district, and Harley Street (just 2 blocks over) is home to the city's finest foot and ankle doctors. And for the BARGAIN PRICE of 120 GBP, you can talk to one of these "beautiful minds."
Well, muffin puffin went in tonight, where she had her consultation with a guy older than Moses. After 5 minutes of examination (compared to the 45 minutes of waiting at 6 PM), his diagnosis:
"Mrs. Taylor, it would appear that you have what is known as a Green Stick Fracture."
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Seriously, are you serious...
That's right, faithful followership, BOTH THE TAYLORS HAVE BROKEN FEET. Gotta love life on medieval cobble stones. Hitman - good thing we didn't book that ski trip!
But hey, no complaints. I've got my boot, and JT has felt on the mend for a day or two already, so hopefully this is just a blip in the road. And to commiserate, we're currently drinking beers to celebrate the arrival of Friday and the prospect of a quiet weekend in.
Okay, that's all the news that's fit to print. Chat tomorrow!
(A hobbling) Sam and Jenny