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November 23, 2003. Falling down and hurting things. (posted
December 7, 2003) I’m
totally injured over here. I have a bad knee and a sprained ankle! It’s
positively tragic. A
couple of weeks ago we went out for some much delayed dancing fun. We hit the
strip and went to a fine specimen of bar/dance club called Chemistry which
was complete with attendant in the bathroom, perhaps-professional dancer in
shiny red satin pants (pleated!) and an equally shiny blue shirt with some
kind of small metal decoration studded all over the collar, and crazy dancing
man who stood on the highest flat surfaces around and demonstrated the most
flexible midsection I’ve ever seen on a fellow his age. And, it was fun. I
was dancing around like an idiot and then: My
knee went out, and I fell. Someone screamed! I couldn’t stand up. My whole
left leg was beat up, and I was in so much pain. Michelle helped me to a
stool and I put my foot up on a bar table and sat there for a while, cup of
ice on my knee and an ice pack that the best bar back ever brought me. Long
story short, I sprained my ankle. Short story long: ·
I opened the towel around my wonderful ice pack (a towel! I don’t
even use one of those at home on my ice packs. This bar back was FANTASTIC.)
to readjust it a little and there was an Icy Icy HAND! It was a rubber glove
filled with ice. It ruled. ·
These drunk guys stopped by to check on me. As the first one asked
after my health the second ran his hand up my leg solicitously. My very very
hair leg. He was totally unflustered, but did walk away quickly. Hee. ·
I made friends with a guy having a bachelor party. He walked out
after I did (well, I didn’t walk. I was the hopping queen.) and got to
witness the people standing on the second floor deck yelling filthy ugly
things at us. Jerks. So, we, being classy ladies, yelled back. They yelled
some more, and someone who will remain nameless winged the rubber glove of
icy hand at them. They winged something at us, and I pulled out my cell phone
and pretended to call the cops. And then we hopped to the corner where our
ride had graciously pulled around to pick us up (having to bravely maneuver
around the drunk-bus on the corner). And
then, we needed crutches for me! I hopped all over the place on Sunday,
asking people for rides and jumping around like a fool. I had to go to school
to do work, and then to a study group at a classmates house, and while I was
away Michelle reconnoitered the scary basement and found a pair of crutchers
to use. It was so relieving. The
next day my trip to school was excruciating. I had to get in early to finish
more homework, so I caught a 6 AM bus. It was awful. It took me 15 minutes to
crutch the three blocks to the corner, and I am sure I don’t have to tell you
it was nearly dark out then. I ran into my chemistry professor at the bus
stop but neither of us noticed the other, really. I got off at the stop
before the short cut I took, which wasn’t really a short cut. It took me 40
minutes to crutch across campus on the I’m-not-really-sure-it-was-a-short-cut
short cut. And then I climbed 3 flights of stairs, because that’s where the
trail took me and I sure as heck wasn’t about to go around to the flat side
of the building. An hour later, I was in my office. The trip involved some
angry muttering, some frustrated tears, and two monster blisters on the palms
of my hands. After that, I looked for rides where ever I could. Tuesday I got
a ride from Paulina who has a 10:30 class. Wednesday there wasn’t any school,
and that was just fine with me. I drove in to take care of some errands. And
then it was thanksgiving weekend and visiting Gabulo could drive around (and
show off her new hybrid civic in the process! V. nice). And
for those of you who really want to know what the doctor said: Monday they
thought about sending me for x-rays. I reminded them that I had opted
foolishly for plan 3 health coverage, which includes a very attractive and as
yet virgin incredibly high deductible. They told me to come back on Wednesday.
So I did, parking illegally in a fraternity parking lot across the street and
crutching my way over. They said perhaps I had structural damage in my knee
(yuck) but that my ankle was doing fine and here are some exercises to try
out. They also said acupuncture was not a bad way to go, but it wouldn’t help
with my structural injuries which I should totally get checked out when I had
a real form of health insurance (goo). Want
to see some totally pixelicious and nearly indiscernible pictures of my ankle?
These are from 12/2/03, which I can do because this is an entry that I wrote
after the fact and put up even later than after I took pictures. So the
swelling is MUCH better than it was, and the bruising is MUCH better than it
was too.
So
that’s the tragic tragic story of my falling down. Usually I just tumble, and
don’t hurt myself badly. Remember the “are
you an athlete” story? That’s usually how it goes for me. But not this
time. It’ll take a little bit longer to clean up from this one. |
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November 30, 2003. A Thanksgiving Story. (posted December 7, 2003) This
thanksgiving was at the same time busy and not busy. It was wonderful. I
had thought of taking a little trip to Albany to visit the family seat, but I
heard that 1. it takes 8 hours to drive and 2. Michelle wasn’t sure if she’d
have Friday off from work and 3. I had a big chemistry test on the Monday following,
and I don’t want to get a C in chemistry. C does not stand for Chemistry, as
far as I’m concerned. I’m pretty sure B does, but would be pleasantly and
shockingly surprised if I found out later that A stands for chemistry. Not
likely! So,
I decided that in light of my terrible schedule I’d just stay home. And in
light of my terrible ankle injury, it’s a darn good thing I did. I can drive
the stick shift around a little bit but lordy I don’t need to do that for 8
hours straight. So we made plans to go to Aurora’s house for a big sumptuous
thanksgiving meal, prepared by herself and her culinary school fiancé. And
Gabulo came out for thanksgiving as well. And
also, I was asked to care for two cats and two turtles. By two turtles I mean
feed one turtle and “check in on Claire while you’re at our house doing your
laundry, ok?” So I was waltzing around with 4 other-persons keys on my key
ring. As waltzing as you can get while you’re on crutches! Wednesday
night Michelle and I went to Mariss and Kelly’s to do laundry. That was
great. We ordered in ridiculous sandwiches (why do warm sandwiches in Pittsburgh
have lettuce on them? That’s so strange) and sat around until very late. And
then I locked up and went home.
And
then I realized that 2 of the 4 other peoples keys were missing. Yikes! So
I tore through my bag, and through all of my pockets, and got the flashlight and
crutched down the driveway to see if when I had moved my car the keys had fallen.
And I checked my car and Gabulo’s car and no key. It was terrible. Luckily I was
totally exhausted so I was able to get to sleep ok, but when I woke up on Friday
morning too early I could not get back to sleep at all. I kept going over in
my head where they keys could have fallen off of my key ring. This was
especially frustrating because I don’t usually lose keys. I’m a very good
person to give things like keys and pieces of identification and other things
to. And worse, one of the keys’ missing was to Mariss and Kelly’s house, and they’re
so nice about letting us use their washer and dryer that I didn’t want to
have to tell them that their key was missing. I
figured the key’s were in two of three places: either in Jared’s house near
the table I’d tossed them on when we first got there, out side of his
apartment where I dropped the keys, or gone for freakin’ ever. We got up and
went out to lunch at our wonderful and super and delightful new café and then
headed over to Jared’s where first Michelle tried to ‘break in’ to his
apartment through a window (all locked) and then I started buzzing people.
The first guy I buzzed came out all disheveled and sleepy and I said “you don’t
know me but I’m supposed to feed come cats upstairs and I don’t have the key,
can I come in?” and he kind of grunted and stepped back. Yay! I we went up up
up and . . . There were the keys! Right on the floor where I’d dropped the
whole right. I was so happy, and we all stayed and petted Jared’s cats for an
hour or so before heading over to feed the turtle. That
night we went back to our new café for some live music. It is a fantastic
place there. It’s just a few blocks away from our house and is right on the
edge of several incredibly different neighborhoods. The proprietress is a
cool lady and fun to chat with, and the coffee is the best I’ve ever had, and
definitely the best I’ve had since Puerto Rico. Is it strange that I only like
really strong coffee? I hope we’ll have a chance to go back there often, and
really, I think it’s so great to have a local place with live music and a
good atmosphere. After 4 years in Spanish Harlem it’s especially appreciated. Saturday
we spent all day doing laundry. It was amazing. And then we went to an Ouve
show, starring Friend Bruce. They’re fantastic, they always are. Sunday
morning we had brunch at the coop (another wonderful local place) and saw
Gabulo off. Michelle and I went back to Café Bliss and spent a few hours
doing work there, and then I regrouped for Chemistry Fun with my classmates.
After, you know, I locked Jared out of his apartment and he had to break in
for real. Yikes! I’ll never be asked to watch the cats again! When
I was little we had to go around the table and say what we were thankful for
this year. There’s so many things I’m thankful for, but this weekend I was
most thankful I’d found the lost keys and that I had good friends with me to
look for them. |
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