Ouch!

If the truth be told, it's been an interesting few days. I have, you see, broken myself. Well, broken is perhaps a little strong, but I have definitely caused damage - to my lower back to be exact. Yes, I have broken my butt, just in time for Christmas...

The tale begins at around 4:30am last Sunday morning when my drunken self and two companions were going for post-bar noodles on Yucai Jie - the street where I live. As we strolled noodlewards, I inadverdantly strode onto a patch of icy pavement and, my cowboy boots not having the best of grips, found both legs pointing skywards as I fell flat on my arse. It was, as you may guess, a comic moment; and despite being momentarily unable to breathe, I was soon able to appreciate its humourous qualities.

I felt no pain whatsoever until Tuesday when the slightest of twinges emerged, but by Thursday I had to slide sideways out of bed just to get up in the morning! Having been prodded, poked and, indeed, thumped in the back by a jolly Chinese doctor, I have been told not to teach for a week and have to go to the hospital every day for treatment (shining a lamp on my back achieves what exactly? Advice please!).

It being the week before Christmas, I have some wonderfully festive lessons lined up for my little cherubs, so I am going to bypass the no-teaching suggestion. I am, however, bending as little as possible, mainly because it rather hurts. So, no alcohol-fuelled dancing and general merry making for yours truly this weekend. Alas.

Sympathies on a postcard,

Bec
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