Confirmation that I'm hard core

Two of my friends witnessed all of the critical moments of my arm break. They were there for the actual fall. They took me to the ER. Spent the night with me and took me back to the ER the next morning. They  were there the day I had surgery. So they witnessed all of the worst moments, including the most painful of all, the lidocaine injection right before the external reduction.

One of those friends is a St. Louis native, so he's a Cardinals fan. (He roots for the Royals when they're not playing the Cards, so he's not all bad.) Thus, he saw when Royal Wilson Betemit broke Albert Pujols' arm. This Cardinals fan assures me that I was much less of a wuss when I broke my arm than Pujols was. I didn't cry or swear or throw things or stomp my feet. I just asked for some water and a trash can (because I felt so queasy) and calmly made my way to the car.

So there you have it. Confirmation that when it comes to handling pain, I am harder core than an All-Star baseball player widely considered to be one of the (if not the) best player in the game.