Anu's mum brought my new figure 8 ankle strap ("as worn by Andy Murray") and I was puppy eager to test drive it with my now unsprained ankle. I left Anu, the kids and grandparents at Bayleaf, an Italian near our house, turned up early at the cricket grounds we play frisbee at and hopped out the taxi, stepping through the broken wall at the edge of the pitch.
I vaguely thought I'd scratched myself and, glancing down, I was amazed to see a 5-6 cm gash yawn on my left leg's upper calf. I looked again. It was still there, still yawning.
So I pinched it back together and hopped back in a tuk tuk (almost the one that dropped me off) to return to Lanka Hospital's A&E. I told them I needed stitches and a dull eyed doctor had a look at my wound. "A little one" he said and took me to a 'mini theatre" (not as cute as it sounds) and gave me five or six stitches (I was staring at the ceiling so my count is vague).
I vaguely thought I'd scratched myself and, glancing down, I was amazed to see a 5-6 cm gash yawn on my left leg's upper calf. I looked again. It was still there, still yawning.
So I pinched it back together and hopped back in a tuk tuk (almost the one that dropped me off) to return to Lanka Hospital's A&E. I told them I needed stitches and a dull eyed doctor had a look at my wound. "A little one" he said and took me to a 'mini theatre" (not as cute as it sounds) and gave me five or six stitches (I was staring at the ceiling so my count is vague).
