Yesterday, while the Girlfriend was at our GP's for a very persistent bug, I decided I couldn't handle not having all the attention. So, in my infinite wisdom, I fell down the stairs. A clever and subtle plot to have all the attention turned from her to me. And boy, did it work. As a trained CSI (well, we've been watching a lot of the show, it kinda rubs off) I can see the trajectory my body made down the stairs due to the fact that I took tiny pieces of "stair" with me (take that, you bastardish thing!) and judging by the bruises I can see where I tried to shield myself and so on and so on.
The result? A lot of bruises and a swollen, pretty immobile thumb. Oops.

The Girlfriend dragged me to the A&E (or ER depending on where you're from), much against my will (you see, I'll literally do anything to get attention), where I was "treated" by a sullen nurse and doctor.
"You didn't go to your GP first?"
"Er ... no... it's 7pm on a Friday evening and he'll tell me to go to hospital for X-rays, I thought I'd save myself the time and come straight here. Plus, this way you guys have the pleasure of being able to charge me for the consultation. How fun is that?!"
"Wait here."
This city, being the metropole that it is, had a very empty A&E. Still it took over an hour and a half for someone to X-ray my hand, a doctor or nurse to come interpret the thing, and then -finally- the first doctor to come back out and tell me the verdict.
"Bruising of the muscles of your thumb, the nurse will put a bandage on your hand" and off she went on her high heels.
"Er... hang on!! Come back! How long am I meant to wear it for? And how long will the pain and swelling last?"
"Ten days, you have to rest it and put lots of ice on it."
And off she went again.
Ten minutes later the nurse came and we were dismissed.

Only afterwards did I realise I'd forgotten to ask if I was allowed to drive (-I can answer that for you today: nope, I can't drive since I can't grip anything heavier than a piece of paper) and if I can't drive, and I'm meant to rest my hand, how the hell am I meant to do my job?
I guess she forgot to write me a note. If I want one, I suppose I'll have to go see my GP on Monday morning. But I don't want to. Firstly because it means paying yet again for a crappy piece of paper, secondly I'm on holiday starting the 21st and I want to wrap up the loose ends at work, and thirdly me home alone with obligations to "rest"?? I'll be going out of my mind by the end of the first day!
Unfortunately this means the Girlfriend will have to drive me to work or I'll have to juggle with - expensive- trains and buses. Don't even ask me how I'm going to get from my one workplace to the next in less than an hour on Thursday. Impossible.