Do you know what happened to my dad?

So I have to keep the activity down for the next 7-10 days to let it heal.

It was sore when I woke up this morning but feels much better now that I've been up for a few hours.

It's a 5-6cm gash. About 2 inches. It was a little gross when I think back to when I first noticed it was much worse than I'd originally thought.

I don't like going to the hospital. It's not the staff, just the whole environment. It's not exactly a happy place. Well except maybe for the delivery ward where all the new babies are. But that's about it. Everywhere else it's a sickly place. And no matter where. There's always one person complaining to the staff. I feel for the hospital staff. They work so hard trying to help people and one person can really make their day miserable.

If I were to describe the person, I'd be doing some profiling, so I won't go there. I'll go somewhere else.

I took Kieran to school and everyone we met, he would point to my knee. Then I'd have to explain that I got 10 or 11 stitches (hard to see in the freakin photo - damn Apple iPhone camera), from my bike pedal hitting me in the knee.

Then as I was leaving the Casa Camp area and one of the assistants was taking Kieran away, I overheard him saying to her - "do you know what happened to my dad?"
It's like they are so proud that there was something out of the ordinary that happened in his life that he could tell a story to someone and they'd be really interested.

I should a taken a pic before it was stitched for him to bring to school. That would have been cool.