The arm is heated and inflamed.
When I touch and move it, it feels like sandpaper inside.
The doctor is not amused to see me again.
“I told you it’s a common ‘getting used to’ symptom with this kind of work”.
Of course they are trained to turn everyone away who won’t bring their head in a bag.
And since there is a young nurse in the room:
“You probably masturbate too much.”
The nurse giggles.
“This is NOT FUNNY!”
“Don’t snap at me prisoner!”
“Just touch the damn thing already!”
His face darkens as I move my hand to the touch.
The next minutes pass in total silence.
“You’ll wear a cast.”
Apparently I partly ruptured my forearm flexors.
“Your ointment did a really great job then.”
It’s a bigger endeveour than he’d like.
“You’ll get your cast tomorrow morning, keep it calm.”
“How long are we talking?”
Well, so much for work.
I’m told that I’ll be relocated tomorrow.
“You’ll spend the weekdays in solitary confinement”.