Buying hash online in Portoferraio

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Buying hash online in Portoferraio

This blog post is quite informative in that respect- I had a pretty nasty terrible triad injury, so if I can get better and recover, I hope you can too. I was surprised. Again, his words rang true. The reason for the extra work was a proliferation of extra circular business activities, including running a digital agency, building an app and publishing a book. I messaged the account and was told it was Elba, a tiny island off the west coast of Italy. I booked an AirBnB with a guy called Leonardo and found some cheap tickets online. So on the 23rd September , I set off for Elba. It was a bit of a trek to get to, from Pisa it was a few tube stops, a train south to Piombino, followed by a bus and finally a ferry over to the island but after nearly a full day of travelling, I reached the island in the dead of night. Even as I approached it on the ferry it looked beautiful, the waves shimmering in the moonlight. I checked into my AirBnB, and met Leonardo. He was great, and even gave me access to his bike to explore the island. It was around 10PM when I finally settled down in my flat, which was near Portoferraio, the commercial coast of the island. The air was humid and people were still milling around in the streets, drinks in hand. So on the first day of my holiday, I set off for Biodola Beach, which was around 4 miles from where I was. I walked through the city, which was bustling at 11am, and picked up a late breakfast at a wonderful restaurant, with fresh prawn pizza taking my fancy. I then walked a few miles along a dusty road, and was near the beach at around 2PM. I was sweating- it was hotter than I thought it would be. I could see the beach in the distance as I walked along the dusty, winding road down towards it. As I was walking on the side of the road, something happened that changed everything. And, annoyingly, my trainers may have been a little knackered. It was completely silent when this happened, so as I hurtled towards the edge of this small cliff I realised I might die. I glanced over the edge a few feet before my feet left the rocky hill, and saw a 20ft drop onto a concrete road below. I went flying off the edge of the ledge at high speed and as I was falling, I remember trying to calculate whether I could land without crushing my head or breaking my leg. In the end, instinct took over and I landed squarely on my left hand with a loud crunch and thud. There was blood all over the concrete floor, and I could hear a car coming, too. Luckily, the cars round this end were going pretty slowly, otherwise I might have been roadkill. My nose felt weird, and I could smell this strange scent every time I breathed, it was crisp and coppery, like my head was suddenly bursting with blood and oxygen. A taxi driver had been smoking a cigarette not far off, and in this weird slow motion, I saw him flick it and come running over, a concerned look on his face. He looked at me, and looked to the heavens, his eyes wide with disbelief. He ran back to his car and got me some water. Meanwhile, I tried to stand. No chance. I realised blood was pouring from my mouth, and there were shiny shards all around me. My phone screen was shattered, but as I dragged it across the concrete, my body shrieking in protest, I realised it was still working. A small wave of relief instantly dissipated when I saw my arm. So I had landed squarely on my left hand, and I was pretty sure I had cracked a few ribs, too, as well as cut my face. I looked at my elbow and it was totally dislocated, and the skin was pulled white to the point where the bone was just about to break the flesh. It looked like something out of a cartoon, like I had 2 elbows or something. I took a deep breath and thanked God that I was still alive. Angelo, the taxi driver, promptly called the ambulance, and I heard it wailing in the distance a few moments later. Worth mentioning by the way, that this random stranger Angelo saved my life. He stood in front of me and waved cars to go around. Many people jumped out of their cars and offered water and blankets- Elban people are truly the most kind and hospitable people I have ever met, and I have a deep admiration for them all. Angelo made small talk as we waited, and I told him I was on holiday in Elba, although that had kind of been cut short now. I felt super thirsty so downed some water, using the rest of it to wipe blood from my face. One guy looked about my age, and he asked if I spoke any Italian. I shook my head and said in my broken Italian that I only spoke English. He switched to English effortlessly and started checking me over. I tried to move but he warned me against it. You moving could cause injury that could paralyse you permanently. I stayed pretty still after that. The paramedics thanked Angelo, who disappeared before I got a chance to say goodbye. They called the hospital and got a stretcher out, putting a neck brace on me and loading me onto it carefully. I clutched my travel bag, which had my passport in it, and closed my eyes once in the ambulance. I was exhausted. I nodded and waited a few minutes as we drove back to the main port. Before long, we arrived at the hospital, and I was lowered into another stretcher. I take no credit for falling on my hand and destroying my arm- it was just luck. A distinguished looking doctor came over and looked at me disapprovingly. A few more doctors and nurses joined him, and they started debating what to do. He shook his head. I nodded and in a few minutes, was being x-rayed. I asked him if the damage was permanent, and he nodded. I nodded and felt a bit nervous. Before long, I was in another hospital room lying on a bed, and was having these sticky things put all over my chest and stomach. I tilted my neck and saw the doctor, a nurse, and some guy behind them who seemed to be with the medical staff. This guy was pacing up and down worriedly, his hands on his head as he looked at me in a panic. Just as the words left my mouth, I felt myself go dizzy and I fell asleep. After what seemed like a second I heard someone saying my name and I opened my eyes. My whole elbow was in a massive white cast, and the doctor was standing over me. Your elbow was pretty badly broken, it took 3 of us! I smiled and decided to focus on the fact that I could have landed on a bollard or broken my neck, in which case things would have been looking very bleak. The doctor shook his head. I have travel insurance, but how much does this cost? Medical expenses are either free or low cost in Elba. I nodded and shook his hand, and thanked the nurses too for their efforts. The hospital kindly called me a taxi and I walked to the exit, realising it was the first time I was walking since the accident. My legs were perfectly fine- not even a scraped knee! My elbow though was a different story. Suddenly, the taxi driver burst out laughing. I was a bit pissed off, but could see the funny side. As I stumbled into my flat, I realised I was suffering from shock. I was certain someone was going to bang the door down and steal everything. As ridiculous as that sounds, I think it probably stemmed from the fear of not being able to defend myself properly for the first time in my life. So I woke up the next day and groaned when I tried to sit up. My ribs were badly cracked, so I rolled over to one side and slowly slid out of bed. My arm throbbed, but the doctor had immobilised it pretty well in the cast. My lip was split and quite swollen, and my nose was a little swollen, too. After a while, I left the flat and found a pharmacy using google maps, where I got some cream for my lip. It was by the main coast, so I bought myself an ice-cream which was amazing, ice-cream here just tastes like sugary ice now and sat by the sea, people glancing at my massive cast and bust up face as they walked by. She sounded concerned, but I told her it was just a scrape, and that I would be home soon. That day, I left for Biodola beach again, but this time, I took a taxi. It was really pricey, but I was fine paying it considering what had happened yesterday. I passed the place I had slipped in the taxi and asked the guy to slow down, which he did. I glanced over the edge and felt sick instantly, so he sped up and dropped me off right next to a stairway that went down to the beach. It was beautiful, and I found a sunny spot and lay there for hours, my cast drawing lots of weird stares. The sun beat down on the golden sand, and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore was really calming. I stepped into the water tentatively and let it ebb and flow up to my ankles. After a while I grabbed something to eat, trying prematurely to lift my arm to the counter, which proved impossible. I took a few photos for my Instagram and it occurred to me that whilst I was lying on the beach with a badly broken elbow, cracked ribs, a split lip and a banging headache, the photos I had taken made it look like I was lounging in some sunny paradise, without a care in the world. I work in digital marketing, and truly believe we just curate our lives on social media, but posting those pictures online really helped it hit home- social media is just the highlight reel, and the actual truth behind every photo is only known to the person who takes it. After a while I went home, getting a pizza on the way back as I wandered through the streets of Elba at dusk. Surprisingly, people had left their doors open, and there were children playing in the streets. That night was very tough, but I watched a movie on my broken iPhone to pass the time. And then, in this colourful and warm blur, it was time to go home. I packed my bags with great difficulty and lugged my bag to the port, where I was waiting for 30 minutes. I was sweating profusely as I jumped on the ferry, people moving out of the way when they saw my cast. Everyone was so friendly and supportive, with random people offering to hold my bag or pay for my bus fare when they saw me struggling to get into my wallet. I did at one point accidentally catch my left arm on my bag, which sent packets of hot pain all over my left side, making me feel sick. But for the most part, because my elbow was immobilised, i managed to just about make it back in one piece. I was worried though, as I seemed to be losing motion in my fingers as I travelled. I made it to Pisa airport after the ferry, bus, train and taxi, and was in the queue when a flight attendant looked at me with concern. I made it to the front of the queue and she took me aside, and asked how long I had been in the cast. She went and got another guy, who proceeded to wipe some weird strip thing on my cast, glaring at me accusingly. After a few minutes, I got pissed at the pain in my arm and just walked onto the plane, leaving them heatedly debating behind me. The first time I saw my family at the airport, I felt relieved, as I had tried to ignore how difficult it had been to fly home with a big cast to lug around and only one working arm. I was asked lots of questions. When I got back home, we went to the hospital to get an X-ray. It was busy when we went, but the staff were friendly and supportive. We went to the hospital for an appointment, where they cut off my cast from Elba. I laughed as some sand fell to the floor from Biodola beach, and my arm appeared for the first time in a while, exfoliated from having the sand rub against it. My upper arm, however, was really badly bruised, with various shades of green and purple blotched everywhere. The nurses gave me a sling, and they performed some more X-rays. Paul Robinson, who was a specialist in upper limb trauma. So I met Dr. Robinson, who came into the room looking very concerned. I shook his hand and asked what the x-rays had shown. Robinson shook his head. I nodded and thanked him for his time, slightly nervous at how serious he had deemed my injury. And since when were medical names so damn dramatic? Trust you to nearly die on holiday, honestly! EVERY single post on the terrible triad injury was focused on medical professionals and was essentially all doom and gloom. So the day of the operation came, I packed my overnight bag and me and my mum left the house at like 5. Finally, my name was called and I was taken into a room for an MRI scan. Another doctor told me that they needed to be prepared for all eventualities, so this would give them a clearer picture of what they were dealing with. I had the scan, which involved being slid slowly inside this massive smarties tube thing, and listening for about 10 minutes to what can only be described as a less elegant version of heavy metal. The doctor sat me down, frowning at the laminated sheets. He then fetched some papers and asked me to sign at the bottom. I was asked to change into hospital attire, and I walked down to the operating theatre with a great guy who told me all about how he used to scuba dive in exotic locations, and could have sworn he had once encountered some Godzilla type creature. Mum came over to see me off, and she started crying, which made me a bit nervous. I was taken into this well-lit theatre and lied down on a bed. I hated the idea of being opened up and having my bones fiddled around with. Suddenly he jabbed the needle in and I winced. I laughed and put my head back, slowly feeling myself drift away. Was I just tired or were the lights spinning a bit above me? I remember snippets from the operation itself. I woke up at one point and there were bright lights above me. Robinson floated into view, and a nurse dabbed my forehead, which was covered in sweat. I woke up again and Dr. Robinson was there with a concerned look on his face. I remember thinking that this expression was probably just the way he usually looked. He nodded. I floated back into a deep sleep, and the next time I woke up I remember being wheeled through some corridors, and saw my mum and dad. I was wheeled into a room and spent the next few hours drifting in and out of consciousness. A wonderful nurse came to check on me every 30 minutes or so, and she made the best tea ever. I remember telling her she was an amazing person, half asleep and half awake, and she laughed. I remember mum and dad floating into view at some point, both of them discussing something that sounded like listening to someone talk underwater. After a while they left and the nurse gave me some morphine for the pain, making me promptly vomit. I got a text from my colleagues early that morning and told them the operation was done. I woke up the next day and saw my arm was in a big plaster. The pain however, was unimaginable. It was like my bones had inflated and were going to tear through my skin at any second. It was like there was a weird rubbery thing just attached to my shoulder. My entire arm was paralysed. Robinson came in, and said that the operation had taken about 7 hours in total, because of how serious the injury had been. He had opened my elbow up, and thankfully reconstructed the radial head with a few pins, so it would heal properly. But then he told me something that made me nauseous. You had a bit of ulnar bone floating around in your arm which we removed, so that bone will begin healing, but to be honest, it was quite a mess. The only movement I had was some slight movement in my pinky. He checked me over once more and said I could go home for some rest, and I thanked him for operating on me. I was instructed to come back in 1 week for a final X-ray, as my body needed time to recover from the operation. After a few days I could feel my fingers again, and ever so slowly, they started moving. Every day showed a little more movement, with my index finger taking the longest to start wriggling. I was given some pretty strong painkillers, which helped quite a lot with the general day-to-day pain. One massive inconvenience though was showering- I had to wrap my arm up in a bag and shower at a weird angle, which was super annoying. I drank lots of turmeric milk to help the healing process for the wound, and also drank lots of water to stay hydrated. So 1 week later I went back to the hospital, where they did another X-ray. When they took off the cast, I saw my scars for the first time, and the nurse had to remove some of the little sutures with some tweezers. I was relieved though, when I sat in the waiting room, straining my ears to hear the consultant next door, who was commentating on my recent x-ray. I sighed with relief and thanked the doctor when he told me the news again in person. I also asked him about the ligament damage, and he said with physio and a good diet, the ligaments would repair. After this, my arm was put in another solid cast, which would be taken off in 2 weeks. I wanted a blue cast, but they had to put this ugly beige skin on it to stop it from moving around too much. Those 2 weeks were the slowest 2 weeks of my life. I had bought myself some playdo to keep my fingers moving, but my hand was still so weak I could barely make a dent in it, which sucked. Instead, I played lots of PS4, which I usually never got time to do, but in this case ended up helping me move my fingers, which was great. After 2 weeks, I went back to the hospital and had my cast removed. My scars looked really shiny, and had mostly healed on both the top and bottom. My physiotherapist was called Pat, and she was absolutely amazing. She explained the exercises I had to do, and I made a note on my phone, adding an alarm so I did them twice every hour. Any squishy stress ball is fine, by the way. Now at first all of the above seemed totally pointless. I would push as hard as I could and get no movement at all, or maybe just a degrees or two. I did find this process useful, as every week I got a little more movement back, but there was also pain. On the 5th day after having my cast removed, I felt like my arm was being pressed by an invisible hot poker. I called the hospital and they said it was quite natural, as the nerves were making new pathways and getting back into action. After a few minutes though, movement returned, which was a relief. Over the next few weeks some motion returned to my arm, and I could even sleep with one arm under the pillow again, which is such a luxury now. Pat, my physio also helped tremendously, using massage milk on my arm to loosen it up and helping me move my wrist so it gained more motion. She was an amazing physiotherapist, as she had this blend of being between empathetic and reassuring, but could also be very frank and no-nonsense. I had a few painful physio sessions with her, and my elbow is all the better for it. She retired at the end of January , and I took a picture during our last physio session. So I was putting on my shirt, having gone back to work, and I felt this wetness near my elbow. I had a look and there was this tiny hole where one of the stitches had split. I popped into the walk-in centre and they put a patch on it, and I went about my normal day. The next day, I took off the patch and that little hole was now a gaping wound, where I could slip two fingers. My stitches were opening up. I went to the walk-in centre again and they packed it with this weird woolly material made of seaweed. It essentially helps the wound heal from the bottom up and just dissolves in your body naturally. I went to the doctor every week for about a month whilst it healed, as it kept splitting open again. Just when I thought it had all but healed, at work I swivelled in my chair, and the edge of the table collided with the scab, opening it up again. The blood spread through my shirt and I was back to square one. Showering became a huge nuisance again, so I was utterly relieved when I opened the bandage one week and it was pretty much healed. This was by far one of the most important aspects in my recovery. I experimented with different foods, and found the following really aided my recovery and helped my ligaments repair themselves:. I saw Dr. However, whenever I want to use a weight machine at the gym, even guys 3 times my size just glance at my scars and nervously shuffle away, which is lovely. When I walk however, no one can tell whatsoever. The feeling in my elbow came back after a while, although some of it will always feel a bit tingly, due to the invasive nature of the operation. However, just keep the following in mind:. I feel blessed to have escaped my fall with just a broken elbow, but feel even more blessed at everyone who helped me out along the way. A special thank you to:. Screw Marvel- these guys are the real superheroes. So today I went in to get the final screws removed from my elbow. Just personal preference. I went into hospital on 31st January, and was out by the end of the day. It was a quick operation, where they made a small incision in the top of my elbow and used a super small screwdriver to unscrew the screw. The good news? Within a week, I had a bit more rotation back in my arm! It was sore as hell and kind of tender, but I could rotate my arm a few more degrees than I could before. Okay, so it has officially been 2 years today since I went in for my operation. A lot has changed since then, and I feel like a totally different person, as cliche as that sounds. My elbow? Today it was push-ups, pull-ups and deadlifts in the gym, and I honestly felt stronger and faster than ever. Considering I was hyper-flexible anyway, this means pretty much a straight arm entirely. It took time, but my previous strength, flexibility and endurance has pretty much returned. Because of the power-lifting, diet and the physio, my arm is now stronger than it has ever been, even before the accident. I feel insanely blessed that this was my outcome, because I can imagine scenarios where I landed on my neck, broke my back, shattered my hip or even worse. Together they can defeat any barrier. It was a great insight into friends who actually actively made an effort rather than send me supportive memes now and again. I have the confidence to launch new businesses, create new products and build my companies with passion, courage and focus. My accident helped me realise this, because when I was falling, and totally out of control of everything, I realised every other seemingly impossible situation in my life had been solvable with a bit of perseverance. My businesses are more successful than ever, by the Grace of God, and my company now employs 25 people worldwide. If I got through that, nothing else can break me. So NOW it has been 3 years since the injury and my eventual recovery from the elbow terrible triad. It ended up increasing in motion as I went to the gym, I think maybe the scar tissue became slightly less stiff over time. I can carry heavy bags, go to the gym, lift weights and generally move around with zero issues. Be patient, be kind to yourself, and never give up on the amazing machinery that is the human body. So 5 years later, and my elbow is totally normal, give or take 2 degrees of movement. Lifting heavy weights is no issue, and I can even do 1-arm push-ups not many, but still. The scars are fading quickly, and my grip is once again stronger in my Terrible Triad elbow than in my other one. Have you broken your elbow and got a terrible triad? Skip to my daily physio routine that helped me make an amazing recovery. A well-needed break I sat down in the boardroom and my manager took a seat opposite me. He was completely right. The Accident So on the first day of my holiday, I set off for Biodola Beach, which was around 4 miles from where I was. I slipped. The edge. I got into the taxi and told him where my flat was. The following day… So I woke up the next day and groaned when I tried to sit up. Travelling back to the UK And then, in this colourful and warm blur, it was time to go home. Back Home The first time I saw my family at the airport, I felt relieved, as I had tried to ignore how difficult it had been to fly home with a big cast to lug around and only one working arm. Within a few minutes my colleagues from work were calling and texting, and although I was in quite a bit of pain, I felt blessed to work in such a brilliant company as VBD. She even got Josh Widdicombe to film me a get well soon message for my birthday! Copy and paste this HTML code into your webpage to embed.