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It happened in the middle of the summer holidays. I was playing with my brother on my bike. I fell off and found I couldn't move my arm. I knew it was broken. What I didn't know was that I was going to spend the next 15 days in Lewisham Hospital.

I was in agony! A nurse helped carry me out of the car into A&E. For about an hour they gave me drugs and asked questions and x-rayed me. I had eaten some blackberries, so they couldn't operate on me that night. Mummy slept with me in the ward.  She comforted me.

The next day I learned how to use the radio and TV and that was great because I could listen to my favourite bands like the Black Eyed Peas.

My arm was in traction for 10 days. It really hurt when the nurses had to move me and I shouted 'Oh no!'

At first there was a poor baby with a broken pelvis who cried all the time. It disturbed me but I felt sorry for him.

I was fed up. As the days went by I realised I wasn't going to go to Camber Sands or my favourite teacher's wedding with my friends. But I liked watching England win the test match.

The nurses were helpful and quite friendly. The food was awful though. The pizza tasted like soggy lasagne.

Sometimes I was left alone when mummy or daddy couldn't come and I was scared the nurses would come and move me or something.

One night I had my operation to put pins in.  They injected me.  I felt my eyes closing and then it was complete darkness. A few days later I managed to walk to the play area. I felt dizzy. I just stared for five minutes at the trees and river out of the window. I felt so grateful that I could see something nice outside. I had been lying down for a week and a half. After two weeks I finally went home.