This has been a fun (said with deep sarcasm) month and a half.
So here's the thing. Several years ago, I wrote a book called COOKIE THERAPY about a clumsy heroine. It seemed like the thing to do, and because they often say "write what you know," it was easy to draw from experience. I don't think some people fully appreciate how clumsy everyday life can make you. I even added a bit about "tripping on air" in DARK SHADOWS, because I'm not the only one with that skill.
Let me share with you a page out of my life. While I regularly appreciate the world around me, it can be said I'm not always fully attentive. I take pictures of fun little things that catch my eye while I'm out walking "out and about," but then I trip on the uneven sidewalk while taking a picture of the turkey vulture hanging out by the pond. Just call me Grace.
Recently, I've been paying the price for a lifetime of these missteps. I get a required minimum of exercise every day, so I'm not altogether a lump on a log. With that being said, recently, I had some pain that refused to go away. So I checked in with the doctor. I spent more time than I should deciding on which orthopedic guy to visit because I have a history with several that I prefer not to engage again, and they tend to be highly specialized. Ultimately, I popped in to visit one and yes, I have issues. I've had orthopedic issues for years, but they generally don't rear their ugly heads because of said exercise every day. But I digress. Commence x-rays and MRIs and physical therapy and a treatment plan. Things are starting to improve! Just as I'm reaching the "what's your pain level today?" scale of "barely there," I fall a$$ over teakettle down the stairs one morning. Scratch that. I went down on my derriere. Sitting on the bottom step, I realized I've given myself a good scare. Ooops. The Big Guy heard me go down. Now he's scared, too. He tries to help, which isn't helpful (gotta love that guy, though). After an assessment, no bones sticking out where they shouldn't be, everything seems to be straight. Some bruises, some contusions, one nasty cut, and I decide I'm okay. I'm relegated to the recliner for the rest of the day.
Fast forward a couple of days to the weekend. I'm not feeling right. Can't call the doctor. It's the weekend. So off I go to Urgent Care, because who wants to spend Saturday in the ER? Urgent Care takes one look at me and "because of my age and because of the nature of my fall" (can I slap that guy? I mean, I know I'm getting older, but am I REALLY at "that age?") he sends me to the ER. Where I spend my Saturday. Oh well. So here's the thing. I checked out okay. "I'm okay!" Except for one vital sign which has stubbornly decided to throw a party. "Is this normal?" the ER nurse asks me. NO, It's not normal. They check me three times, but the band isn't going home, and the dancing goes on. The ER doc decides they don't need to keep me just for that and they send me home. "But keep an eye on it."
Okey dokey. Keeping an eye on it. Two days later and the rave is still going on. Am I going to fall back into being "that age?" Am I falling apart? Suddenly, everything is going to stop working? So, per my discharge instructions, I call my regular doc. Fill him in on my escapades and the ongoing rave my body has decided to throw. Bless him, he says he can't justify a case for this being a new problem because my history is so "pristine." (I knew I liked this guy) But now it's something I have to keep an eye on. Likely, the "rave" is part of all the other stuff, the pain, the treatment, the stress. Unfortunately, it means monitoring until the band and all the party goers taking up residence inside me go home just to make sure it doesn't BECOME a new problem.
I've learned a whole lot about my body in the last week. MRIs and CTs show you things you'd rather not know about. And as I told the guy in the ER, every day since the fall, I'm finding new bruises and abrasions I missed from that fateful event. The good news is the initial pain is gone. Now it's just the bruises and contusions.
The Big Guy is still following me around and telling me to be careful on the steps, a week later. It was a one-off. I'm a klutz. I told him if he wants to make sure I don't do it again, let's buy a house without so many steps! Fodder for a new book? Guess I've already been there, done that. It does keep me up to date on ER protocol, however!
Back to our regularly scheduled program next week...
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