It's amazing that such a small woman could exert so much pain. After she'd tossed me about as if I were a feather for my allotted twenty minutes, I was tempted to ask (meekly) why she was smashing me off walls; and indeed wondered for a moment if I'd made a mistake and accidentally wandered into Madame Sin's House of Pain; three doors down next to MacDonald's.
Anyway. It worked because apart from mild concussion and I think, a dislocated spine coupled to a rupture of every organ in my entire body - my arm is working once more.
Onward with the writing. I'm so sick of typing with one arm hanging limply over the table and fair game for the cat who keeps grabbing at it, fully aware with that evil feline intuition, that she's protected by my daughter who has a hammer and knows how to use it.
Now back to my previously professional typing approach - two fingers.