Worse than ManFlu

I think it is safe to say that I have surpassed all male efforts at being the worst patient on the planet. Even in the midst of the Great Man-Flu Epidemic of 2007 no-one whinged louder than I have over my one week in plaster.
I am sooky and whiney.
I am a princess.
I am needy. 
I am grumpy.
I am not impressed.

This is partly due to the fact that no-one in my house seems to be taking this seriously.
On Monday night I had the following conversation with The Man I Married

TMIM: "How's your arm?"
Me: "Aching and sore"
TMIM: "Really (genuine surprise)? Why?"

 ""...................................................................................................

 ..................................   Crickets chirping.........................................................

 .........................................................................................

 .................................................................................................""

Me: "Because its broken and in a plaster cast."
TMIM: "Oh."