Hey there.

Well, I'm functional again. Both limbs are woking, I'm no longer forced to sit at work, typing with my left hand. What a nightmare that was, though I'm a bit more ambidextrous now, at least with typing. Fingers are more flexible, stretching across the keyboard.

Still not as fast as I am with two, of course.

It's been a bit. PD has been posting for me when I've asked him to, as you've seen. He's... upstairs...? Maybe third or fourth floor, not sure where they're shooting. It's for a feature, not for his company, but another that's fairly well known. They did some scenes with about twenty extras out in the streets around the warehouse earlier today, sat on the sidewalk with one of the art guys and quietly chatted while they filmed.

Not being able to post has been a bit weird, anxiety building a little bit as things I would normally discuss in here, issues just beneath the surface that I need a few hundred words to access, aren't addressed and fester, taking themselves out on my stomach.

I don't like not being able to write.

Anyway, things fell out basically the way PD described. I was accidentally pushed into a planter, which wouldn't have been an issue, save that the roots of the tree that the planter contained had pushed up the sidewalk around it, so I caught my foot on an edge and dropped like a rock.

Again, wouldn't have been an issue if I hadn't been wearing glasses, as I would have rolled my body into it, but since I fell face-forward, I had to catch myself on my hands in order to stop my glasses from potentially shattering into my eyes, which I barely did. The frames are black stainless steel, I heard the *dink* when the upper right corner touched down, but I managed to keep from breaking them.

Cut open my knee and the side of my right hand, dripping blood down the sidewalk from the latter as I walked to a spot where PD could grab me and take me to the hospital, as I was unable to move my arm out of a right angle.

Fortunately, he had finished shooting just before I called, so he hopped in his car and picked me up. The ER was oddly fast, the nurse on duty fairly efficient, though the x-ray tech left a good deal to be desired. They couldn't tell by the x-ray if the bone was broken or not, as I was unable to straighten my arm, even with the Vicoden in my system my muscles would not release enough.

So PD bundled me into his car, we stopped by the warehouse, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed down to my doctor's, which was a good forty-five minutes away.

Mind you, this was 3AM on Friday morning of 4th of July weekend and my doctor does not usually accept walk ins, so we had to get there when they opened the office at 830AM, be first in line. 4th of July traffic on a Friday morning was a no-go, even on the highway at 3AM it was fairly heavy, so we got a hotel room near his office.

Amusingly, the only place with a room available was at a hotel I've wanted to stay at since I was little. A little pricey, but PD was insistent that we stay there and not crash at my parents' down the way.

He got me undressed, slowly pulling my good arm out of the shirt, head through the neckhole, gently sliding the last sleeve over my bent arm, me hissing through my teeth, muscle relaxants and Vicoden still not doing enough. He undid my belt, unbuttoned my pants, moved them over my hips, underwear following suit, bra unclasped removed, tied my hair back for me, then made a pillow-mound in the bed, something that would allow me to keep my arm on level with my shoulder, my elbow on level with my wrist. Gasping as we situated it, trying not to cry out.

I fell around 8 or 9PM, I believe. Got in bed at 4AM. I had not cried.

I don't cry, whatever pain I'm in, until the situation is handled. Crying does nothing but release stress, tension, and adrenaline. The more you cry, the more it hurts, the more your body is drained, and if you are draining your body, it has to struggle more to keep moving, and your brain shuts off.

So I cry when everything is over. When it's safe for me to release.

I curled around the mound of pillows and sobbed. Exhausted, drugged, in pain, I sobbed as PD stood over me.

And then I slept.