So I set out on my walk to work this morning and I got to a nice little path through the forest behind Cedarbrae school. I like that path. It’s nice. I saw blue jays there last week. I was listening to Red, which wasn’t off to the most promising start, and I was steadfastly ignoring the goddamn snow.
Anyway, I got to the path and I knew it was icy. So it wasn’t really all that much of a surprise when I fell on my ass.
I laid there for a minute or two trying to assess the damage. It hurt. I couldn’t breathe very well, but I’ve had the wind knocked out of me before. I pulled myself up on a fence and I still wasn’t breathing very well. So I decided I probably wasn’t going to work today. So I went home.
I got home and I was in a bit of a bad way. I decided I should probably call my doctor. But when I got to the phone, the most prudent course of action seemed to be to call 911 instead. So I did that.
I could stay standing, but my legs were getting a bit weak. Sitting down was kind of hard, but once I was down, it was okay. Still in pain, and still having a hard time breathing, but okay.
The fire truck came first. I was pretty sure the dispatcher said that an ambulance was coming, but the firemen were nice and gave me oxygen and made sure my spine wasn’t broken and I didn’t have a concussion. Then the ambulance came. One of the paramedics fell on the ice in front of my house, so that helped me feel less stupid about things.
I’m pretty sure she was okay.
They were nice too and weren’t too upset when I nearly threw up on them after the firemen took their oxygen away. What missed the baggy mostly ended up on my carpet anyway. I was okay when they put the oxygen back. And I got a lovely trip in the ambulance.
They apologized for taking me to St. Mary’s. But it didn’t seem that bad to me. I got to hang around with a young lady with a penchant for prescription narcotics and a couple people which what I’m pretty sure was undiagnosed whooping cough, although I’m not a doctor. Things settled down to just a dull pain after a while and I wished I’d brought a book to read or something.
I had lots of tests done and eventually i got x-rayed and I was told that I had a fractured rib but nothing else serious, so I was discharged and made my way home.
I never got my health card back, though. I’m a little peeved about that. It was one of the red and white ones that never expire. I hope it turns up, but I’ve probably better let the government know soonish or my identity will be sold to credit card fraudsters or Syrian operatives.
Now I’m at home, drugged up but still in pain and lying on a bag of frozen blueberries. I’m quite happy I can type like this. I’m going to take tomorrow off, though, as sitting up isn’t a whole lot of fun. So I’ll probably just watch DVDs or something. It’s a distraction if nothing else.
In summary: I hate winter and I want it to fucking end already.
That’s all I have to say.