Goodbye to the sticks

To the foulest pit of HELL to you (or return to the Fracture Clinic at Frimley Park Hospital as the label suggests)

Tomorrow, all being well, I see my surgeon and he will tell me that I will no longer need crutches to walk.

They've been the bane of my life for the last six weeks, and despite giving me more exercise than I've ever had in the last few years (my arms are BUFF), I'll be glad to see the back of them.

But there's two things I'm going to keep - my pair of Reebok weightlifting gloves which were exactly what my poor life-behind-a-desk hands needed when they going got tough.The best eight quid I ever spent.

I will fight ANY MAN who slags off my badass gloves (terms and conditions apply)

Also, they look totally badass and will probably help me avoid fights in the future.

I'm not allowed to keep the wee bottle, but Amazon keeps suggesting that I buy another. Tempted.