On Valentine’s day I had a disaster, which was not good.
I fell off Queen Effie. My bracelet got tangled in the hand brake and I tried to jerk it off. Over I went. After I sat there for a few minutes, I put my shoes back on, picked myself up, mounted Queen Effie and rode to the Rotary lunch meeting, which was very pleasant. After the lunch, I got up from the table and a piercing pain shot through my torso. I mean, it hurt.
I walked my bike to CVS, asked if I could leave my bike there while I went to the ER. No, that’s not allowed, which I though was a bit rough. Eventually I found a kind Uber driver who deliverd my bike home and me to ER. He was talkative and quietly reached into his car consol and presented me with his private card, in case I needed anything. Apparently he does a lot ‘on the side,’
We got to ER, they were efficient and after much fussing around the Dr told me I had two fractured ribs. I was gob smacked. What does this mean?
Now I know. It means pain, pain, pain. I left the hospital with enough pain pills for 3 days and a bottle of Tylenol.
So I’ve been struggling to sit down, get up, get into bed, get out of bed and it hurts a lot.
I am not telling my kids because (1) I am embarrassed and (2) I don’t want to hear any lectures.
So I walk around my unit with ice dripping from my underarm and acute pain if I slump a bit.
I’m so ashamed and embarrassed but want to get through this thing a quickly as possible.
Dr Google said the best thing to do was rest, so I am sleeping and reading alot, and if I didn’t have to pee occasionally, it wouldn’t be so bad, But I have to get and get down and it hurts every time. And I don’t know what else to do.