On broken bones and public transportation
So, I'm a foreign exchange student; I'm living in Belgium this year with a belgian family. Over the week of Carnival (read: Mardi Gras week), I went skiing with them in the French Alps. Having never skied before, I obviously fell, alot. Everybody falls when they begin skiing, so I was told. Over the course of the week, I steadily improved, and even began to have confidence in my ability to fall down a sloped hill using only two giant skis. It was like I was flying. On the Thursday of that week, Valentine's Day, I decided to take a shortcut between two slopes. I'd seen at least half a dozen other people do it, so why shouldn't I be able to, right?
I fell and fractured my arm.
So, I've been nursing a broken arm for the past five weeks. I should be good to go and I can take off the brace I've been using... But I to get an x-ray done first. Being a poor exchange student with limited French skills (That's what they speak in Belgum. Or at least in the south.), the parent who is hosting me said she'd organize the appointment. I was totally cool with that, let her handle it and asked to be informed of the appointment a little in advance.
Today, around noon, I get a phone call from her. Apparently I have an appointment in an hour and a half. She says I need to take the medical files from when I fell, which are at the house. She says I need to take the bus at 11:45. It is, as I said, already noon. Doing some quick math with the bus schedules, I figure I can still make it on time if I make the next bus. Only the next bus got stuck in the snow for fifteen minutes. Wonderful.
I finally make it to the house and am, apparently, at fault for missing an appointment I didn't even know I had before it was too late.
