That is my arm. Correction: My right-drawing-writing-do-most-everything-with arm.
My arm is stiff.
My arm is wrapped in bandages.
And those bandages are covering 15-20 stitches in multiple slices on my arm.
Note to Self: Never, ever, walk down the wooden stairs with wool socks on, without holding the rail. You are likely to slip on the second step, fall down the 15 remaining stairs, break a glass, spill your food, and cut yourself up while you’re at it. Plus, sitting in the waiting room at the hospital for 2+ hours, playing card games and reading whilst trying to keep away from all the poor people hacking and coughing behind masks does not fall under the ‘Fun’ category.
God is so good, though – I didn’t break my neck like everybody else in the family who heard my spectacular fall thought I did, and the doctor said I can still bend my arm (hahahaaa, yeeaaahhh. At least it won’t kill me to bend it enough to draw. Typing is easy, I just keep my right arm a little stiff. Drawing is going to be FUN with this thing on.