You know, I never thought that breaking my wrist and having it surgically repaired could provide so much blog fodder! The whole ordeal happened over 8 months ago and there are still stories left to tell - especially the one about how I actually managed to break the bone. I'm still debating on that one. For now, here's one I hope you'll enjoy.

The night before my surgery, the Pampered Mama took me out for "The Last Supper." Since I wasn't allowed to eat anything after midnight, I ate and drank everything in sight until 11:59. That was the first time I'd ever eaten the entire contents of a bread basket - and it'll probably be the only time! I consumed everything from martinis and sauvignon blanc to duck spring rolls, shrimp cocktail, crab cakes, and an entire cheese board.

The other thing I did that night was pamper myself...heavily. I blew out my hair perfectly, applied a coating of self tanner to face and body, and filed and buffed my nails to perfection (all while wearing a cast on my dominant hand!). My nails were so shiny that they looked like they were sporting two coats of clear polish (polish not being allowed, of course, since my hand was being operated on). My cuticles were exquisite. My previously-obtained pedicure was still perfect. My face was tanned and glowing, making up for the fact that I was instructed not to wear any makeup on the big day.

Why did I do this, you ask?

Well...if your surgeon looked like a cross between Dermot Mulroney and James Denton, I bet you would have, too.

I just could not bear to go into that hospital looking like an unkempt mess. It was bad enough to have to scoot around in a hospital gown that looked like it was made for Marlon Brando in his later years, not to mention the ridiculous hospital slippers and hairnet-thing.

I know it was vain, but honestly, I needed something to occupy me the night before (I was scared!), so the pampering was therapeutic. Plus, I just wanted to feel as normal as possible in the hospital. And combined with the hot surgeon...well, you get the idea.

Now, dear readers, I know I'm nuts, but I also know I can't be the only one. Have you ever found yourself in a similar situation? Do tell!

Oh, and if any of you in the NY area happen to be in need of an orthopedic surgeon, I have the perfect choice... :)