Ouch!

Hooray! I've broken my left

foot! Am in plaster at the

hospital - hope 2 b upright v

soon! Will call asap AM in

kings@camberwell /

Denmark Hill

That's the text that woke me up at 3.57am on 6 February. My comedy flatmate - the one who looks like me but shorter. Poor luv's a clumsy sod anyway due to a combination of previous foot-related accidents and a deaf ear throwing him off balance. But this one was nasty - he tripped over by Trafalgar Square and broke his tibia. Prior to 6th Feb 2007 I doubt I could have pointed to a tibia with any accuracy but now the flatmate has a huge plaster bandage to show me roughly where it is.

I told him if it isn't healed within 14 days I'm having him shot. No good to me if he can't go out to market and come back with a full cart.

It's terrifying to see just how immobile he's become though. Because his other foot - the one that's now supporting his weight - has only just recovered from a knock at Christmas, he's in agony every time he has to walk to the bathroom and his weekly tips to hospital leave him in a lot of distress.

Luckily, there's a lot of nice people at work who've come over with emergency entertainment packages for him. DVDs and books to borrow, a gorgeously heartfelt card and some home-made cake.

In the meantime, I get to be sole cook and bottle-washer in our kitchen. It's nice to be fed by someone else every now and then, but I'm enjoying the challenge of thinking up new meals each day rather than sticking with the same recipes and arrangements.

Still, it's going to be a Chinese tonight and I think he's paying. Hurrah!