Oops, I Did It Again

Broke my big toe again this afternoon. I've lost count how many times it's been busted.


Actually, I've lost count how many bones I've broken all-in-all. I'm somewhere in the 30s, I think.

OUCH! Again

I wish you could have seen it. There I am- perched awkwardly on a ladder. Straining to reach the corner of the molding on the ceiling just behind the shower. Straining. Stretching. And finally- success! I fill the crack with caulk.
Satisfied, I shift slightly to check my work and watch in amazement as my shower curtains seem to magically rise up towards the ceiling.

A moment later I open my eyes to find myself sprawled on the bathroom's tiled floor, looking at the ceiling, my left arm at an angle underneath my back.
One of the old wooden ladder's legs had given way and dumped me sideways- down through the curtains, into the side of the tub, and onto the floor.

My ribs on the left are turning colors from the impact with the tub, my left hand is tingly, and I received a small cut somewhere on my head from the floor, toilet, and/or vanity (hard to tell what I hit). And my bathroom now looks like one from a suite a Christian Slater or Robert Downy Jr from the late 90s might have used.

I think I'm taking the rest of the night off.

Note to Self

Dear Me,
The next time I'm removing old carpeting from stairs, make certain not to strain so hard so when the nails holding the carpet in give way too suddenly that I fall backwards down the stairs which (now having nailheads sticking out of them) cut, scrape, and/or impale me as I tumble, with me impacting the ground hard enough to actually crack the floor of my cellar with my skull.

Note to self- try to avoid doing that.

Tough Love

Early this morning (or late last night, depending on your own internal clock), I was rough-housing with Fred. As the weather's been craptacular, she's been getting cabin fever. So to relieve it (and 'cause it's fun), we rough-house a bit each night. Burns a bit of her energy off.

So last night, right afterwards, I decide to race her up the stairs. Nearly at the top and I'm winning, Fred (apparently still pumped up from playing) swipes my legs out from underneath me. I hit the landing from the waist up, crushing my right wrist beneath me and let out a loud enough "ouch" to cause my roomie to get up to check on me.

What cracked me up, is that after knocking me to the ground and hearing me shout in pain, Fred steps over me and slowly saunters to the bed and hops in.

Adding Up

I broke my big toe on Sunday.

This takes my grand total of broken bones (not including micro-fractures, like when my entire foot was crushed) up to 26 or 28.
I lost count somewhere.

Only A Matter Of Time

The home I now co-habit is a two-story condo. Meaning there are stairs. Meaning at some point I was going to fall down those stairs. Just so happened that was an hour ago.

I was walking down them with my hands full. No idea how it happened, but one second my left foot was on the step and the next- it wasn't. My left knee went into the wall, my head clanged against the metal railing on the right, and the ribs of the left side of my back thwacked down on the edge of a step. It was so sudden I made no noise. That me correct that- I made no noise from my mouth. I made plenty as my body bounced its way down the remaining flight.
I lay there for several moments listening to my brain tell me where the pain was. Mostly the left side except for a splitting headache. Apart from several REALLY sweet bruises, I'm OK.

Personally, I'm impressed I managed to fall less than a month after moving ;)

Add It To The List

I was playing with Fred this morning, as is my want. We were engaged in one of her favorite games "Ghost", where one of us is under a blanket on the bed and the other play-attacks.
So I was the one under the blanket this morning with Fred prancing around me. She reared up, paws waving around madly and (because I know it would make her happy) I did the same.

When I first got the house, I made some changes before I began moving in. One of those changes was to have a friend install a new light fixture in my bedroom, for which I owed her a vegetarian pizza (come to think of it- I still owe her that pizza). The new fixture is a hanging pagoda on a strong metal pole coming down from the ceiling.

When I reared up, mirroring Fred, the back of my left hand connected with the edge of the pagoda. Very, very hard. So hard in fact that I broke the pagoda. According to the x-ray (can you see where this is going?), I also broke the middle metacarpal in my hand. Not a full break, just a healthy length-wise crack.
Hurts like a sonovabitch, even typing is uncomfortable (although my pain meds have really taken the edge off). Not cast-worthy, but I have to wear a brace for a coupla weeks.


Go'head- laugh it up, folks!!

You Wound Me

I'm accident-prone, or as I prefer it- injury-prone. I typically joke that it's only my scar tissue & willpower that's holding me together.

As I currently hold an ice-pack to my eye (I just got habanero juice in it), I note that I have been asked "are you TRYING to kill yourself" by 3 different people in less than a week. Possibly it has something to do with the 3 recent cuts in my head:
The first... hell- I don't even REMEMBER how that happened. Only a little 1/2-inch nick on the top.
The second was last week when I fell out of a tree. Well, technically I was still in the tree. I was picking oranges for someone and the only ones left were near the top. I was perched on my 3-step ladder (on the handle of my 3-step ladder) when one of the ladder's legs sank into the mud. I lost balance and fell through the branches, getting lodged mostly upside-down in the crook of the tree. I received several scratches on my arms, but didn't notice I had cut my head until I showered the next day (there was blood on the towel after I dried my hair). It turned out to be a nice little gouge.
The third happened Saturday. I cracked my head on a shelf in my closet. Inch long gash right next to the first cut.


sigh
I'm not off to a great start in the new year....

Wednesday #3

Pretty boring this one, but necessary. I partly chose it due to Thanksgiving and the increasingly poor weather.
All I did was some home repair, although it was a bit more in-depth than normal. Typically my highest extent involves painting or something with a hammer- hence how this was somewhat "new" for me....
I fixed both toilets: one had that annoying "drip-drip" noise and only needed some fiddling with the ballcock (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!). The other was constantly running and I needed to completely redo the workings in the tank area. I had zero idea what I was doing (Example 'A'- forgetting to turn off the water to the toilet before I took it apart) but whatever I did- worked.
I also had to take the iron frame off my backdoor (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!!) and reset it. The frame had somehow shifted over time and the door wasn't locking anymore. Well, it would lock but as the locks weren't in line with the bolt holes, the door could simply be pushed open. Overall this wasn't too difficult except trying to hold the frame in place and re-attach it at the same time. Took a bit.


I know there are those of you going: "What the hell? Where's the fun? Where's the excitement? Where's the accident we're so desperately awaiting from 'Mr Safety' here?". I did have an "oops" afterwards while boning some pork butt (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!!!) for tomorrow's feast. Ended up with a 3-inch slice along my right forearm.
It's a beauty too- curved, skin only, with a nice raised part. It's a pity my comic book-like healing will clear it before December begins.

You always hear not to "drink and drive", but what about "drink and bone"?

Wednesday #1

Poor people get bored too. Living on the dole (as I am), you discover there’s just so much TV, DVDs, books, comic books, porn, internet, video games, and at-home activities you can do before you start to go cRazY- especially if you have no artistic outlet.
So I decided that every Wednesday I would scrape together some cash and try something new or something I haven’t done in a while: indoor rock climbing, a comedy improv class, learn to play the ukulele, etc.
Today, I took a drive and did some snow skiing.

It’s been years since I’ve been around snow, and even more since I’ve been skiing. But “what the hell” was the only thought in my mind.
I was a little shaky on my first run, picking up speed on my second. It wasn’t until my fifth (and final) run when the inevitable “oops” happened.

Partway down, I strayed off a bit while attempting to adjust my sunglasses when I hit a slick patch. Both skis shunted far too quickly to my right, throwing me completely off-balance. On instinct, I jabbed my right pole down but my legs were moving too fast and my pole hit the ground between my legs. This, of course, sent the pole THWACKING into my joy department. At the same time, my left pole went down only to get caught under the left ski. So basically, all my limbs were tangled up in each other. The whole thing happened in less than a second.

It was at this time that I went into serious Sports Blooper mode.

Later, as I was gingerly attempting to pick myself up, the couple who was behind me stopped to check if I was OK. Through tears of laughter and a look of concern, the lady mentioned she had never seen anyone stop himself using only his face while the guy noted the face-groove in the snow was about 10 to 12 feet long.

My right ski fractured, a clasp of the left ski bent to the point that the boot refuses to lock into it, and the entire bottom of the left pole is missing. The whole set is a total write-off and is currently adorning a dumpster in Truckee. And my sunglasses now come “some assembly required”.
As for me? I survived (obviously). Banged, bruised, but ultimately- unkillable.


I think I’ll be happily bored for a while.

The Fall

PLATE SURFING!!

PLAY ME!