It was late afternoon on Friday when I was finally given the go-ahead to leave the Leeds General Infirmary, having been there since Monday morning.
I suspect - in fact, I know - many of you will have many worse tales to tell than I have. But, 48 hours on, I have no shame in admitting that the whole hospital experience rocked me to the core.
After my arm had a fairly negative reaction to Wednesday's operation, it looked odds-on that I wouldn't be released until after the weekend.
I spoke to one of the nurses about it on Thursday and explained that it was Charlotte's 6th birthday party on Saturday and I had to be there.
The nurse came back to me a little later to say that she could arrange for me to travel. But as things stood, I would have to return to hospital immediately afterwards. A very kind and generous idea. However, presented with it, I think I would've chosen to stay where I was. Saying goodbye would've been too tough.
Whatever happened in the subsequent 12 hours is beyond be. But the swelling and pain in my arm did somehow reduce enough for me to convince the consultant on Friday to sign my papers for release later in the day.
And I got to Charlotte's party.
I hope Miss White enjoyed it as much as her doting daddy. (The only downside was discovering shortly beforehand that our friendly neighbourhood burglars from two weeks ago - remember them? - had also stolen my camera).
As to what happens next, I'm actually due back at the LGI first thing tomorrow morning to check that all things hand and arm are heading in the right direction.
I'm still on heavy antibiotics but the swelling is definitely on the wane, which is great. As long as that continues, the only remaining challenge is the wound on my hand from the operation. It's horrific. Seriously. It looks like Piers Morgan. They're hoping it will heal itself. Otherwise there's the possibility of having to go through a skin graft, which would really put the icing on my Christmas cake. But we'll cross that crocodile-infested ditch if we're forced to.
For now, I want to thank anyone and everyone who's been so kind to me (and Vanessa, which is even more appreciated) over the last week. It made a real difference, especially when the outlook wasn't so hot.
I was really taken aback this afternoon when my top man friend Dylan turned up with his superstar son Sion to hand over an amazing card from the Aireborough Lions U9s. Dylan had designed it himself and a load of the boys and their parents had signed it.
Neither Jamie nor I have been at rugby for three weeks; first because of the break-in and then because of my illness. Jamie was just as flattered by the thought behind the card as I was. We promise that we'll be the first in line for training come January.