?And if you are awake at four AM, you are either in love or lonely, and I don?t know which one is worse.?

Woke up at 6.40 am this morning, to go study with my group during our day off. Needless to say, meeting this early was not one of my ideas. However, theoretically I should most certainly be tired by now. Theoretically is never to be counted on though.

Goodnight lucky sleepers. 🙂

It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of long natural hair. Ever since I was no more than 5 years old, and my mum thought that short hair was cool, where most people mistook me for a boy,  I’ve had an urge to grow my hair as long as possible.

However, there are times when I, in moments of desperation and insanity, decide that it’s time for a change. Thus I once ended up with multicoloured hair (pink in the front, yellow on the top, orange in the bottom and purple in the back), a time I associate with Friis & Co. belts, see-through D&G t-shirts, g-star 69 jeans, and way too much make-up; a time I have safely tried to displace over the years. Yesterday I had that struck of insanity again, after browsing through photos. So at 5 o’clock in the afternoon I decided to search for the nearest hairdresser and cut my hair. Short.

“Luck” was with me and I found a vietnamese salon, where the tiny lady had time. After 1 hour with excessive talking (mostly from her side, my responses can be summed up in “mhm, cool, how nice”) I was left with 20 cm shorter… very healthy but…

unevenly cut… hair.

Thankfully Caroline from my class had sympathy with me and has promised to help me cut it evenly. Sigh. It must be some sort of life-lesson that I missed out on, multiple times. “Don’t ever get impulse haircuts”.

Ever.

The last couple of days have been dispiriting and rather gloomy. Not only are the warm, sunny days slowly being replaced by rain, dropping temperatures and shorter days, but I’m also in very much doubt whether to go through with the surgery or not.

There is no golden ticket, as I’ll either be left with a 15 cm scar right across my collarbone or an asymmetrical shoulder with a permanent bump. Whichever way I turn it around, there are a million pros and a trillion cons.

If I get the surgery, I may have to have the plate removed after a while, which means that no matter how much I try to care for the scar afterwards, they might have to open it up again. If I don’t, my bones may not grow back together or they may but then that will shorten my collarbone and might cause muscle/coordination problems.

Nevertheless, the solution to many problems is merely shopping.
So I bought three pairs of new shoes yesterday at the Fashion Bazaar. I got all three pairs for 200 crowns (equal to roughly 25 euros). Couldn’t decide which colour to get the ballerinas in and since recreational shopping is all about “don’t worry about it, buy it all“, that’s what I did.

After the very therapeutic shopping, I decided to go into hibernation with a bowl of yogurt and my newly acquired blanket that I imagine feels like what a cloud in a cartoon would feel like. (Really, it’s so unbelievable soft, I for a second considered whether I could bring it with me to class this morning..)

Now it’s time to get back to homework. Sigh.

xxx

Starting a post with “it’s been way too long”, reminds me of the diary I kept when I all I wanted in my life was a pony!
Honestly though, it has. I’ve decided to pick up on my blogging again, as I read through some of my previous posts and it’s just brilliant reminiscing many of these memories. It’s hard knowing where to start though. Last time I wrote I was still living in Ibiza, still a teenager and unsure of my future. The first two have since then changed, but the last one I’m beginning to doubt will ever change.

I’ve moved back to Odense, my hometown, and found a lovely apartment. It has 3 bedrooms, a balcony and is located on the 3rd floor right in the heart of the town. I’m so happy, I absolutely love it.

I’ve begun yet another new education at Syddansk University, where I’m studying Engineering with emphasis on Product Development and Innovation. So far it’s been pretty interesting. The subjects are a bit dull, the teachers speak rusty english but the people in my class generally seem really nice. Since engineering is a bit of a mans world, there are a lot more guys than girls at our faculty, which only helps eliminate gossip, groups and drama. So far, so good.

We had an introduction party Friday the 31st of august. You might wonder how come I mention this date, but to me it has become the date of doom.
The evening started out really well. After throwing around with a lot of clothes (universal girls problem it seems), I finally found an acceptable outfit. J and I biked to the University where plans were to eat dinner with our class followed by going partying. The dinner was sublime (tortillas with chicken – one of my favourites!) and everyone was starting to get a little tipsy.
The school had arranged for a party to be held in the ceremonial hall, with lots of beers, “grøn gajol” (possible the best tasting shots ever), DJ’s, dancing and playing games. The mood was definitely high! So high, that we decided to bike into town to continue the party in a club. Bad idea…..

Two days before the party, I had walked roughly 14 km in my pretty ballerinas, which meant that my legs were killing me. Therefore, as we were biking I held onto J, but as the concentration was low and J is as good moving in traffic as a blind mouse, our bikes got too close together and our handlebars got entangled and we crashed. Or, I crashed onto the pavement. J merely landed softly on top of me.
As J is typically very overprotective, I got annoyed when he told me to lie still, asking annoying questions like “are you sure you are okay”… so I got back up on my bike and told him to continue (my mortification of having actually fallen off a bike was too big to admit I was actually hurting). I tried to shrug off the pain and biked roughly 50 meters. But by then my vision was starting to blur, my shoulder was aching so bad and I was feeling nauseous. So I had to eat crow, admitting to the pain being too great to continue my adventure and party. I got off the bike and the next 10-15 minutes are a bit of a blur to say the least. Apparently J helped me lie down on the ground as we waited for an ambulance to arrive. All I was worried about was to make sure J had my shoes and my bag (gotta keep ’em responsibility!) As the ambulance arrived I had to get an IV.
For those of you unfamiliar with my absolute TERROR of needles, I was trying to argue with the paramedic not to get anywhere near me with a needle……..

However, due to a head concussion, I for once quickly gave up and I got some painkillers. I was placed on a spine board and transported into the ambulance. I then asked for the paramedic to tell me stories until we arrived at the hospital. He, as far as I remember, wasn’t very good. I had to very much encourage him and even give him hints as to what I wanted to hear (I believe I wanted a story about a rabbit… again… I was a little disorientated).

We arrived and the next hour or so is very much a blur. What I can recall is basically just ceilings, as I was lying down, staring up into the air. I got an x-ray of my shoulder, which showed that I had a broken collarbone.

They sent me home, with some painkillers, a “sling” and a page stating that I shouldn’t watch tv, nor read for the next 48 hours. Great. Not only was I completely handicapped – for those of you unaware, moving just the slightest bit with a broken collarbone is tremendous pain – but I also couldn’t catch up with Breaking Bad, check my facebook, read my school books. Nope. Nothing. So I spent many hours, trying to find images in my ceiling….

Here seen depicting my general happiness in accordance to not being able to do anything…..

School the next two weeks wasn’t too bad. We got separated into our study groups and I thankfully believe I’ve found a really good, dynamic group. The groups were based upon characteristics of our personality compiled from a test. I got a very clear result – most definitely a “shaper”, which is roughly translated as the leader personality. Apparently, I tend to become aggressive when things don’t go my way…. hmm…

However, the pain in my shoulder decided to intensify, so I decided to make a new appointment with my doctor. After having a longer discussion with him, where I, in the end, had to demand a new x-ray he finally agreed to schedule an appointment with me at the hospital the following day.

Turns out, it was a very good idea (cough, it was mine) as my collarbone has decided to not only not heal, but also to move further apart, leaving a gap between my bones of a couple of mm’s.

In comparison, the bottom photo is from three days ago.

So, the radiologist told me to go to the ER. I did so, waited for approximately an hour, got in and talked to a doctor who hardly spoke danish. His advise? Go home, come back in two weeks.

I was furious. Paying this much in taxes, only to be sent home when I need help?
Thankfully I’m covered by my dad’s insurance so I went to a private hospital.
Their advise? Surgery as soon as possible, as it will otherwise only prolong my pain and risk having to break apart the bone. Since then I’ve had it confirmed by two other non-biased doctors, that surgery is the best way forward. It’s unbelievable how long the public system will go to avoid using resources…

So, now I’m scheduled for surgery sometime during next week. I’m slightly nervous. Apparently I’ll get a true pirate scar all the way across my collarbone. Also, not to forget, will I have to confront my phobia with needles again. Sigh!

Happy thoughts though!

xxxxxx