Oops! I've Done It Again

Not my arm -- but very close -- stole this image from the web

 Clumsy me.  Yesterday afternoon, not looking where I was going, on entering the computer room and not realizing that the dog's pillow was waiting to wrap around my scruffy sandals, down I went, face first, right onto the nubby carpet.  Right foot twisted into the pillow, left arm scraped the bookcase all the way down, right knee took the blunt force of the fall.  Chin crashed into the carpet with quite the thud.

There I lay, spread eagle on the carpet, with only a "sh*t" breathed out.  Because it was the carpet, even the dogs didn't stir.  But the body said, "Nope, not gonna get up.  You're down for the count this time, kid"  -- except, of course, I really wasn't.  Nothing was broken, just carpet burned and bruised.  Ugly, purple, and pink bruises on the soft tissue, strange sky blue on the boney parts.

It did take me a little bit to figure out how to get myself upright.  The soft tissue swelled and showed a rainbow of colors immediately.  The boney parts took a bit longer but hurt much worse.  And the indignity of it all was my own stupidity at not realizing the pillow was sitting out in the middle of the floor -- where I'd move it when I hung my coat up in the closet.  At least this time, like a tree falling in the forest with no one around, nobody was the wiser. Until Hubby got a gander at the left arm and asked, quite rightly, "How the heck did you manage THAT?"

So we missed out on water aerobics last night.  Today it feels like both arms were wrenched from their sockets, I have to remember not to crawl into bed on my knees like I usually do, but go all the way around and sit down on it like a lady, and getting out of the tub now, even with it's handicapped bars, is quite the treat.  I did manage an Epsom salts bath  at 2:30 a.m. when the pain I was experiences was so sharp it was no longer a deterrent from the pain I expected on getting out of that darned tub. 

The last couple of weeks have been really hard on me.  I've felt -- well, I'm not sure how to describe it -- not quite right.  In fact, that's been an understatement -- except I've not had any symptoms one could actually call a doctor and ask for help with.  Getting up and doing "anything" had left me winded, cold, and sweaty.  My stomach has been constantly "achy" -- not exactly upset but "just wrong."  My energy levels have hovered between three and zero on a scale of 1 - 10 with ten being high.  I even opted out of a doctor's appointment with Hubby because I just couldn't imagine sitting around for an hour in a hard chair.

Finally, this past Sunday things began to get marginally better though I began to wonder if what I was experiencing was depression.  On Tuesday I met two dear friends from my past life in business at the #3 Telephone Company and that perked me up considerably.  Until I came home and fell flat on my kisser. 

Weird times.