My best friend broke her toe yesterday. Alas, now that's one thing we don't have in common anymore. Neither of us can whistle and we both used to be able to say we'd never broken a bone (come close, but never officially for me).
I must admit that I'm afraid one day a broken bone will happen to me as klutzy as I am. Husband as a teenager, broke both his arms at one time! He tells me sometimes how painful and just awful it can be to break a bone. I'm afraid that I will scream hysterically and go into shock when it finally happens. You see, I have an EXTREMELY low tolerance for pain. My broken friend was very brave yesterday when she called me for help and I went over. I figured tears and yelling in agony over the pain would be involved but not my brave friend. I'm very proud of her.
I hope her day today is somewhat smoother than her terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad day yesterday (as she has described it).