Wristy Business.
I’ve strained my wrist. [INSERT YOUR PUNCHLINE HERE.]
The annoying thing about being a man with a wrist injury is that if you mention it to anyone, you get the same knowing look: a look that says, “I bet I know how you did that. A little too enthusiastic, were we?”. It’s the same when you catch a cold; complain once and you’re accused of suffering from man flu. I’d happily get pneumonia if only to show these people up. Men can be ill too, you know.
I’ve always had weak wrists [INSERT PUNCHLINE NUMBER TWO]. It stems from being a guitarist. I’d often have problems on tour. If you’re playing for two hours a night in different conditions and at varying temperatures, it’s easy to strain them. You’d then never have sufficient time to let them heal. I’ve put up with it since I was in a band as a teenager. Though I seldom play these days, it still flares up; it wreaks havoc with my juggling.
It happens to my right hand most often, which isn’t so bad, as I’m left handed. I can still do basic tasks, like lift a kettle or flick a v-sign. This time around, it’s my strong hand that’s suffering. It's difficult to write. Most frustratingly of all, I can’t open a packet of biscuits; how’s a guy supposed to get his sugary fix?
If I’m still in pain after tomorrow’s show, I’ll make a doctor’s appointment. In the meantime, I'll try to source a wrist support. If I get a funny look from the chemist, I’ll punch them in the face, which will hurt them as much as it hurts me.
The annoying thing about being a man with a wrist injury is that if you mention it to anyone, you get the same knowing look: a look that says, “I bet I know how you did that. A little too enthusiastic, were we?”. It’s the same when you catch a cold; complain once and you’re accused of suffering from man flu. I’d happily get pneumonia if only to show these people up. Men can be ill too, you know.
I’ve always had weak wrists [INSERT PUNCHLINE NUMBER TWO]. It stems from being a guitarist. I’d often have problems on tour. If you’re playing for two hours a night in different conditions and at varying temperatures, it’s easy to strain them. You’d then never have sufficient time to let them heal. I’ve put up with it since I was in a band as a teenager. Though I seldom play these days, it still flares up; it wreaks havoc with my juggling.
It happens to my right hand most often, which isn’t so bad, as I’m left handed. I can still do basic tasks, like lift a kettle or flick a v-sign. This time around, it’s my strong hand that’s suffering. It's difficult to write. Most frustratingly of all, I can’t open a packet of biscuits; how’s a guy supposed to get his sugary fix?
If I’m still in pain after tomorrow’s show, I’ll make a doctor’s appointment. In the meantime, I'll try to source a wrist support. If I get a funny look from the chemist, I’ll punch them in the face, which will hurt them as much as it hurts me.
