So. I’m in the basement last night, in my office, about to start a blog post when I realize I left my camera upstairs. I get up to fetch it, and suddenly, I’m flying through the air and land rib cage first on the concrete. Apparently, I tripped over a box, but I was basically on the ground before I even realized what was happening. It was like being drunk and wondering how you’d ended up face down on the neighbor’s lawn (or, ahem, how I imagine that would feel).
Long story short, I thought I had broken my wrist. It swelled and hurt like crazy, but I decided that with the help of some vicodin, I could wait until today to go to urgent care for an x-ray. Now I am the proud owner of this lovely get-up:
Basically, I am to wear this until it stops hurting, and in the meantime, take percocet for the pain.
So much for all that salsa I wanted to make. Urgh! And this happened almost to the day that I broke my ankle last year. I suppose it could have been a lot worse though, considering we store our bikes down there and my face could have easily met up with a pedal.
I’d love to write more, but this has taken forever to write with one hand.