When you break a limb, there’s a coarse white material they stick on the skin that wraps itself around you and helps heals you from the inside out. Having just gone through a wrist break of magnificent proportions, I pledge allegiance to my stookie. A stalwart, linchpin that was there with me every step of the way.

RIP my plaster-cast friend.

An Ode To My Stookie
My wee handy pal for the last eight/nine weeks
has been silent yet stoic and generally neat
it’s been careful round spillages, jam blobs and splats
I’m just thankful it never got near my two cats

Red ink and blue ink, black ink and green
the most colourful stookie the world’s ever seen
I’m honoured to know it, I’m thankful each day
– protecting my wrist in its own special way

It gets some bad press with its cold, hard white shell
people think that it’s itchy and that sometimes it smells
but deep down I know there’s a heart of pure gold
as its layers make sure my wound’s out of the cold

I’m not going to lie, it did get on my wick
with its limited wardrobe and thumb space too thick
but I’ll never forget its fine patience and charm
as it did its utmost for my poorly wee arm


  1. Hi Sarah! How did you manage to break your wrist? When I broke my wrist, it was all the small bones, so I had to have a big metal clamp in the end to keep the bones together. It was so heavy it made me really tired. In Sainsbury’s I had to have a customer helper because I set the alarm off. In the library at George IV Bridge I set the alarm off as well. I was crossing the road at Randolph Crescent wearing small heels which tapered down. My foot caught in a space between the cobble stones and I went forward and tried to save myself. Since then I’ve been wary about heels on cobbles.