The Saga Continues

I got the go-ahead today from my doctor to remove the brace from my now-healed broken arm. At first I ripped the thing off, tugging at the black button and then frantically pulling it over my arm.  Freedom!  The arm and wrist were x-rayed again (I can't ever see much, but as long as the Doc can...it's all good) and I was sent back to wait in the little cubicle.  A few rounds of Words with Friends later, in came my doctor, easily still in her twenties, and she spent a few minutes examining the x-rays and poking and prodding my arm. 

Her diagnoses?  Healing well.  "Don't do anything crazy," she said, and then looked quizzically at me. 

"What?" I asked, glancing around myself somewhat dis-concertedly.


"Well," she replied, "I'm thinking about what you do that would be considered crazy.  OK, no bike riding, or lifting 50 pound bags in the garden."

"Huh, I don't look like the rock climbing type?" I huffed. 

"No rock climbing then," she said with a smile.  As I headed out the door I found myself wishing she had said "No dishes!" 

Guess I'm not very crazy, I thought, as I put my brace back on and headed out to the car!