Almost foiled by a rib or two..

So then – was it the fact that the girl I was chasing at hockey last week:

- was younger than me

– had longer, nauseatingly slimmer legs

– was therefore a lot faster

– had the ball when I didn't

– or that it was the same one I'd nearly beheaded earlier in the game with a stonkingly walloped ball

… that made her keen to send me flying, almost smack me in the head with a return belt of the ball and basically tip me ribs-first at speed into a very hard artificial grass pitch, at an unwise rate of Scotty knots?

One of those flying, unprotected falls where in the first few milliseconds after landing you think – oh, oh is it going to be ok, not sure yet……. NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Cue screaming like a stuck pig (partly to force the somewhat biased umpire to stop the game and prevent us losing 2-5) but mostly because – it bloody well hurt. A lot. And of course any rib action for your truly comes with the inbuilt bodily knowledge that i) this really will hurt, ii) for ages, iii) take forever to mend  iv) oh and yes be a daily reminder that I am no longer invincible and 27.

Oh and of course v) – run the hefty risk of wrecking our holiday, which was only 7 days away at the time. As well as vi) stop me from playing in the last Aces match that I'm here for, one of the two remaining which we REALLY need to win.

Basically GGGGGGGRRRRRRG, in one moment of foolish schoolgirl error mis-tackling - six instant good reasons why the next time some leggy smug teenager pegs it past me, that I should use my stick to trip her up and not my entire whale-like torso.

Anyway – 2 x-rays and a trip to Prof later this week:

HIM:  'I'd like to feel your ribs and see where it hurts'

ME: 'I can tell you where it hurts – I honestly haven't just popped in for a social call – and do you really have to make me yell?'

HIM: 'well, I should just check…'

ME: Now starting to poke him in the ribs, going 'See? Do you like it? No. Who likes their ribs being jabbed? And there's nothing wrong with yours!' (Ah, what you can get away with, after 4 years of being baited in an old consultant's office)

HIM: 'Oh, ok then…I think you're probably fine to go on holiday'

And off I toddled.

So – bummer that it happened, but hopefully it won't mess up the trip and as usual I will just have to lie when filling out any scuba diving or massage forms (yes, even when you go for a massage, having The Nasty prevents you getting a gentle rubdown with nice oil). It's become par for the course – much easier that way!

We are packed, extra painkillers on board – Mozambique and South Africa, here we come!

Sx