Yet Another Trip to the ER

Tuesday night, my feet were cold. This is a rare occurrence. My feet rarely get cold. I despise socks, but I put some on, out of some desire to be mature and normal for once.

I came down the carpeted stairs without incident. My luck ran out when I headed down the tile and laminate stairs.

One of my fuzzy-sock covered hit the edge of the step and I slid. My left hip landed hard on the laminate-covered-concrete step. My left elbow cracked against the tile. My peanut butter and chocolate chips flew out of the paper cup and onto the floor. All three of these things were tragedies. The peanut butter and chocolate mess was cleared up easily. The other two things have had longer-lasting results.

I couldn't sit or bend my elbow or hip at all on Tuesday night. It made watching Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and New Girl difficult. I was in tears all evening and was kept up all night with the pain.

I went to work Wednesday morning. I lasted an hour. After 10 minutes, I was sweating bullets and vomiting from the pain. I called in a sub (the doctor's wife, who I woke up... go me) and waited for her to get there.

Mum was convinced I broke a bone. I wasn't so sure. Yes, my butt was swollen and blue to the point that I couldn't get pants on, but they were just bruises. In the end, the pain was so bad, though, that I had to stop arguing.

You see, guys, I don't cry about pain. Anyone who went to school with me knows this. My pain tolerance is through-the-roof high. When you dislocate joints several times a day, your body adapts. But I was crying yesterday.

So we went to the ER.

There was a small problem: we arrived with a life-flight helicopter and two ambulances. We were also following after 3 other life-flight helicopters and 8 more ambulances. There had been three enormous accidents within about 5 miles of the hospital.

It was crazy in that hospital. People were running around, scrambling from one trauma to another, bumping into each other, and shouting orders and vital signs. It was like a scene from ER. (Dr. Carter is adorable and I would marry him.)

They kept apologizing for the wait, but I kept reassuring them that it was ok. I just had fallen down stairs. No life-threatening injuries. Please, just take care of the dying people.

I had a glamorous bed, parked on the side of a hallway. People kept looking at my butt. I recommend against bruising your hip because it shows up on your butt and then people keep having to look at it. I had x-rays. Each of the six seemed to be an exercise in how to make my pain even worse. I got drugs.

After a few hours, I was told "you bounce, but don't break" and was sent home with a pain med prescription and orders to rest.

Hence this blog post. I'm home, lying uncomfortably. There is no comfortable position for these severe contusions. Poor me. I am feeling freaking sorry for myself. MY BUTTOCK IS BLUE. MY ELBOW DOESN'T REALLY BEND. WTH????

At least I have My Antonia, which is a beautiful book.