Bruisetastic

Yesterday, as my infusion line was being plugged in, I told my infusion nurse that I'd fallen down the stairs early in the day. She smiled. "That, Si, is going to hurt. Not yet, but it really will." She then loaded the drugs into my blood.
I slept through the infusion, having had an unexpected mouth reconstruction the day before and the MS stuntman routine of the early morning, I fancied a nap.
Woke up drugged then spent the extra hour knocking about to check I wasn't going to drop dead. Death avoided, came home. All I wanted was a hamburger. This was incredibly important and took my mind off what I knew was coming. Burger acquired, the Woody Allen from Easy Street with Greek fries. Nice. Upstairs watching Ashes to Ashes, which I really like, letting the feeling I knew was getting worse sit as quietly as it could at the back of my mind. Fell asleep. Woke up, bruising now in full flight, twinging where ever it liked. No black eye, odd as MS falls have been accompanied with a black eye constantly over the last 4 years. Maybe that's why the pain took a while to take hold. No black eye, no place to focus.
The drugs are doing their job with a shrug. "What have you been doing?" and the day has started. Bruisetastic.