Inacivity excuse (it's a good one!)
Black ice and dress shoes do not mix. Black ice, dress shoes and a concrete drive do not mix. Black ice, dress shoes, a concrete drive and very early mornings in Winter most certainly do not mix.
So I was lying on the cold, wet, hard concrete and discovered several things:
1) My mind and body kind of shut down in moments of physical shock. If a sabre tooth tiger ever leaped on me I’d be totally dead since I’d probably just lie there for 10 minutes while my body yelled “Ye gods, what the hell happened” and the tiger would be merrily gnawing on something irreplaceable before I could move. Admittedly, being able to move while having irreplaceable things gnawed is probably not especially useful either, but it’s still kind of embarrassing to know that your response to physical trauma is quarter of an hour of catatonia.
2) My body is stingy with the endorphins. When I hurt myself I’m incapacitated by pain, end of. No happy-loopy chemicals to make you all spaced and gleeful. No nice pain numbing drugs so you can get out of the path of the stampeding mammoth (what’s that about, body? I could be laminated to the floor under the feet of prehistoric pachyderms! Where was I when the survival skills were handed out? Behind the door?). Which means not only do I get 15 minutes of “AAARGH what the hell happened?” shock but I then get 15 minutes of “I don’t give a damn what happened, it bloody hurts?!”
30 minutes of crippling inactivity after physical trauma? Body, you suck.
Of course it was at this point I learned the more practical things like my left knee hating me a LOT and REALLY not going to be taking any weight. No. Nope nope. Not without some endorphins anyway (stingy body) to take the pain away (see? Even if I recovered faster the Sabre tooth tiger would still have got me because I couldn’t run away! Damn stupid happy chemical hording glands) so we were NOT moving from that concrete.
Especially since, if my knee hated me, then my right arm hated me, the world and everything in it and was determined to make it all suffer as much as possible. Since there’s a limit to what a right arm can do, it settled for making my life agony.
Eventually fumbling out my mobile phone (tough mobile phone) and call Beloved out of the house to pick me up (ow) and take me to a hospital (well, I wanted to go back to bed and mope and huddle, but since I couldn’t move on my own power at the time, Beloved managed to get his way). My left knee was dislocated and they merrily slipped it back into place (OW by the way) but my right arm is broken and is likely to be a source of inconvenience (and, irritatingly, constant nagging pain) for some time to come. To keep both injuries company I have an assortment of bruises, muscle strains, sprains and other nasty nasty things that the doctors assured me would be agonisingly painful and awful if I hadn’t had the knee and arm to distract me.
To which I would like to address a Whiskey Tango Foxtrot to the body. I mean, I’ve been run over. I’ve been in car crashes. I’ve been attacked by big man with undiplomatic attitudes. From these I get up, brush myself off and move on. But falling over and I‘m crippled? what’s up with that?
As such I am going to be AFK for a while. I can (as can be seen) type one handed but it is immensely frustrating and gives me a headache. I don’t need more aches.