Bumper cars at Seattle Center. photo David Lindes.
Yeah, well. So I was hurt. Physically.
After I posted Hit and Run Saturday morning, fell fast asleep and ended up sleeping straight through to 8 pm Saturday, waking up only for standard pain meds. Needed a bit more than normal, but nothing really out of the norm.
At 8 pm Saturday drank the house dry of water, read for a little, then fell back asleep. Nothing to eat, but again, it isn't uncommon for me to go 36 hours without eating. Slept straight through till 1 pm Sunday, then drifted awake over an hour. Again, the only exceptions were waking up every three to four hours for pain and associated meds, taken around the clock.
Two pm Sunday. Tried to sit up. Yelped. (Being an understatement.)
My entire right side was stiff, stiff in the can't be moved and any attempt sends children with knives to stick in your side, way, but it makes no difference as your side is strapped to a board; the children with knives are there just to make it clear NOT to try that shit again.
I'm a FAST learner. I only tried twice.
I thought perhaps I could twist backwards, given twisting frontwards was clearly wrong.
BIG mistake. Huge.
Those little children? They not only were ready and waiting, but they heated the knives and then started doing gymnastic routines from them. Yelping isn't precisely what I did, but let's not frighten anyone.
Eventually I got enough high-level pain meds down I was able to sit, stand, hobble to the car.
About 2:30 pm Sunday, I made it to my favorite dinner for brunch. Walking in they were "Oh my God, what happened to you?!" It was that obvious.
Had a raspberry/blueberry waffle and whip-cream, with a side of bacon, plus a Coke. Sat and answered email for a while and just enjoyed the non-moving. And the absence of any knife-holding little-bastard children.
After brunch, went to the Apple store and bought a new mouse and an extra power-supply. (This eliminates a source of pain, bending over to un-plug and plug-in the power-supply when I leave the house. Now I have a power-supply in my jump bag, and one permanently plugged in. This is the kind of pain-reducing act which is a luxury for most people, but absolutely necessary for people with disabilities.)
Came home. Talked with Kyle. Answered more mail and fell asleep. It's many hours later on Sunday night and here I am, writing.
The pain is intense, but so long as I sit CAREFULLY, I get by.
No ribs were broken in the making of the live-action film JEEP MAN. Just bruising.
Back when I worked as a paramedic I'd say, "I don't have x-ray vision; I don't know if you have broken bones or not." However at this point in my life I've had my ribs broken enough damn times that I DO know if they're broken. These aren't broken; they're bruised real damn good. They'll heal. So would broken ribs, but these will heal more quickly, thank the Gods.
I give this a week-ten days before I'm back to normal. In the meantime, I'll be walking MUCH slower than normal, and sitting down and standing up CAREFULLY. If you are someone whom is physically around me, it's JEEP MAN's fault we are moving so damn slow. (I'm going in to see my doctor tomorrow.)
I find myself genuinely wanting to know what in the frack was going on with Jeep Man late Thursday night, that trying to put a much smaller car (and its driver) into the wall (a Jersey Barrier) Ka-BOOM occurred for him as the smart thing to do. Was he actually trying to kill me? It sure as fuck seemed like it from where I was driving.
What was going on in what passes for his brain?
And now, as it turns out, I'm HURT.
Multiple felonies just got MORE multiple. BAD move, Gidget.