Friday, September 22 was going to be a good day.

I was up with the birds and went to work early (by my standards, not a farmer's) at 6.45am with a spring in my step on a beautiful spring morning.

My first job was to turn up at Emerson's Brewery in Dunedin for the video filming of the ceremonial pouring of the hops into the stainless steel vat for our 2017 beer. It's a joint venture between The Country and the brewing team at Emerson's.

Last year's 1200 litre batch was a runaway success. This year we've upped the ante to 5,000 litres and we're going to market our thirst-quenching Pilsner to farmers in riggers. More about that later.

Advertisement

So after the quick video session it was back to work to get some interviews in the can for my midday radio show, because I had a busy afternoon in store.

Leading sheep breeder Derek Daniell did a great piece (from South America) on farming and the environment in New Zealand.

Dairy NZ chief executive Dr Tim Mackle chimed in with a pre-election plea for urban New Zealand to consider Kiwi cow cockies friends not enemies. And political guru Barry Soper, after much agonising, picked Bill to just pip Jacinda the following day, Election Day.

Then as soon as I was off air at 1pm, it was straight into the car for the real highlight of the day, the Otago Rugby sponsors golf tournament.

What happened later that afternoon could only be described as a freak accident. I would like to say I did it wrestling a steer in the cattle yards, or better still, playing a Rugby World Cup final on one leg like Richie.

Truth be known I tripped wandering off a tee block admiring a good drive, rather than watching where I was walking, much to the mirth of my so-called team mates. I've stumbled, metaphorically, many times on a golf course but never this painfully.

The net result was a foot fracture known as Lisfranc , an injury common in the good old days to horsemen who fell and got their foot stuck in the stirrup. Google it and you'll see it hurts! And it still hurt the following morning.

So after a solid 10 hour Saturday stint in the public health system, I had to ask myself whether I'd actually voted for the right party that morning on my way to the much maligned and politicised Dunedin hospital.

Our health system is not busted but it's definitely bowing at the knees from the strain of being underfunded and under resourced.

It was a humbling experience to spend 10 hours in the company of such hard-working health professionals. After many conversations, born of fellow inmate boredom, I found the waiting room to be place of those not only suffering an accident or emergency.

In many cases it was just a home for those unfortunate enough to not be able to afford to visit a doctor for their everyday ills and chills. The sick are clogging our emergency departments, as ironic as that sounds.

Don't even start me on the incompetent bureaucratic bungling between the Southern DHB and ACC! If I ran my business that way I'd be broke. Little wonder the Southern DHB finds itself in that predicament.

So I'm now less than one week into a 10 week stint off my feet on crutches. I'm not a patient patient. I love exercising. I can't pretend this is going to be easy. I'm having to channel all my inner Jacinda to remain "relentlessly positive".

I need something to replace golf, running and biking in my life. It has to be a mental rather than physical pursuit and I think I have just what the doctor's ordered.

After years of butchering our beautiful native language, I reckon I'm going to enrol in a tertiary Te Reo Maori course.

And who knows by the time National's underfunded health system has me on the mend, it might well be that Labour's fully funded tertiary system will pick up the tab for my Te Reo.