I'm a Walking Disaster Area... Beware!

When I was a child, 'Walking Disaster Area' was my Dads nickname for me. It was borne out of the fact that there seemed to be weekly visits to Kingston Hospitals A&E Dept. It was once suggested that they should just reserve a bed for me.

I lost the end of my little finger trapping it in a door when I couldn't even walk properly, I split my chin open three times, and my head twice. I bought my Dad an Army pen knife while on a school holiday to Switzerland (unbelievable that this was allowed!), and then tested it on my jeans, only to find it was actually sharp enough to go straight through to my leg too!

My curse has continued into adulthood, with various illnesses and traumas meaning that I have a lifetime of consultants and check-ups to look forward to.

The curse doesn't seem to be limited to just me either. It can, and does, extend to the immediate area around me. My time at the Islington restaurant had a few disasters while I was there, and since I've been at Hampstead there have been a couple too.

Firstly, the road outside the restaurant subsiding on the Saturday evening before Christmas. It literally just sank! About 4ft down, with lamposts and bus stops going askew. By the next morning it had been dug out to about 20ft round and 15ft deep as Thames Water tried to sort the issue out, meaning we lost all electrics and water supply on our busiest weekend. Then yesterday the underground station was closed and evacuated when a fire broke out in their pipes and black smoke started pouring out onto the street from a vent just outside my restaurant.

Yesterday evening, the most recent attack of the jinx happened. Just after writing yesterdays entry about two upcoming dates, one of which I was particualrly excited about, I stood up from my chair to get myself ready for a dinner with Alfie. As I'd been sat with my legs crossed, my left leg had 'gone to sleep'. I put my weight on it to try to get it working and then took a step onto my right leg to balance.

Now, at this point those of you with a fragile constitution should skip a paragraph.

As I then moved my sleepy left leg forward, I was unaware that the foot had just flopped down, limp as an old lettuce leaf, so when I went to stand on it again I put all my weight onto the front tip of the big toe and cracked it back under my body, twisting my knee underneath me as the hallway carpet rushed up to meet my cheek.

So now, my toe looks like a nuclear sized black olive, and both dates are cancelled. I have a cold, and my jaws are aching so much that I have taken the new teeth out. I therefore can't walk or eat. I am feeling thoroughly horrible, old and very sorry for myself.