Whooppeeee! :) Tra la la

Yeah! Whooppeee! The cast has been cast away. The blasted plaster has been taken off, in other words. :)

And, trust me, if it’s possible for someone whose heart stopped functioning temporarily to be alive, then I am that someone. What a terrible scare it was to watch the monstrous plaster sawing machine (is that what it is called?) come close to grazing my leg a few times when the doctor’s assistant was freeing me of the cast. I kept one eye on the machine and the other on the assistant to ensure that she was steady and prayed furiously while at the same time warning myself to never ever get into such situations again. The sooner I forget the sawing machine, the better. Shuddddder. God, Thanks a Trillion for taking me through that safely!!

Back to expressing my joy of being rid of the plaster - I feel like I am free to jump, dance and kick people I am not happy with, though I can’t yet do all this. After three months of continuous problems with my feet (sprains, ligament pulls and fractures) I am finally hoping that I shall get to swing my legs in glee provided there aren’t any dangerous objects within a diameter of one kilometer, excluding people I want to kick that is. (Ideally, I’d like to steal that sawing machine and use it on people I am finding it very hard to appreciate). The urge to tell everyone that the cast is off is immense. Maybe you could lend a hand…or in this case, a mouth? Tell the first bloke you bump into. Tell that inspecting insect. Tell that bubbly bird. Tell that buzzing bee. Tell that wobbly worm. Tell that darling doggy. Tell that curious cat. Tell that cute spotted cow. Tell that calm cloud. Tell that tall tree. Tell all the aliens you know. I really wont mind. And, please take this from me if you’re not on my hit-list - it never is good to break a bone if it happens to be yours. ;) Take care.

PS: I'll soon be covering parts of this story that I haven't gone into so far!