So, today I went to the local walk in centre in my city, to get my wrist checked out.
In a nutshell, the process was very blessed. Usually, in this city, getting results through the NHS is a pain in the arse. But today, something greater than myself was looking over me, and everything fell in place quite nicely.
A brief background to the incident -
Sprained my wrist pretty hard 4-odd months ago.
Got checked out at the doctor's, great service and got a referral for an xray at the hospital. Awesome.
Got the xrays done. Nothing broken. Great.
Except for the fact they sent me home with no further information on how to prevent the pain I was having, which in fact, was possibly the worst thing that could have happened.
2-3 more months of pain.
Pain finally subsides; forgotten about.
Fast forward til now; wrist starts hurting again.
With recent Movnat and Parkour/Gymnastic activity, this is most uncool.
Frustration leads to motivation, so I look into getting it checked out again.
Taking the advice of the receptionist from the local doctor's surgery, I tell a white lie at the walk in center, saying I fucked it a couple of days ago.
Proceed to step 2.
Upon seeing the nurse, I tell her I am off to Oz in two weeks, and I want to get it sorted. Note to self - Rapport is the key.
Turns out, she lived in Oz for three years...
Cue conversation and proceed to step 3.
I get xrays done from a hot south-african nurse.
Proceed to step 4.
Nothing's broken, and I get a wrist splint which should help.
Proceed to step 5.
I did some training earlier with the splint on, and no pain.
Miracle from the NHS.
Proceed with life...