Single-handed (adjective) but not single-handedly (adverb)

It's been a weird few weeks. In mid-April, after having my bike serviced one rainy Friday, I was riding home and slipped in some unseen wet autumn leaves, falling on the kerb and fracturing my humerus. Alas, there's nothing humorous about a busted humerus! It is very painful. It's also very constricting, as the treatment involves at least six weeks in an immobilising sling.

Andrew, my partner of twenty-plus years, has been absolutely wonderful. He's driven me to medical appointments, taken over all of the household tasks with aplomb, and even dressed and undressed me each day. (I'm not allowed to move my left arm in certain directions so dressing is a big challenge.) I'm usually a ferociously independent person so learning to ask people – Andrew, friends, colleagues and strangers – to do things for me has been quite a stretch. Whether it is getting from A to B, opening doors, chopping ingredients or cleaning the house, I'm feeling pretty useless. Luckily my habit of keeping a weekly menu and freezing plenty of leftovers for weekday meals has paid off; we've raided the freezer and enjoyed things like pasta with homemade sauce, nachos, and all manner of legume-y soups lately.

What have I learnt from all this? That Andrew is my hero (well, I knew that already, but know it even more now), that it is OK to ask people for help, and that I really shouldn't ride my bike on rainy autumnal evenings.

When the sling is visible I almost need to hang an FAQ sign around my neck:

1. I fell off my bike.
2. Yes, it hurts.
3. About six weeks.

After a while the questions became a bit repetitive, so I splashed out on a disguise.

Now you see it ... 

... now you don't!