Sunday, June 25, 2017

Breaking Ribs

June 25, 2017

It was one of those silly, stupid things that just happen. Though an evening appointment meant I would be able to watch only the first two innings of Izzi´s softball game, it was worth it to me to see those two innings. Linda had arrived earlier, and already had the sports chairs set up. Hers is one of those folding camp chairs you can buy for fifteen bucks at Walmart. Mine is a bit different. 

I bought two of them from my brother a few years ago. He had won them in some kind of raffle, and didn´t like them, so he planned on selling them in a yard sale. I thought they were just right. They were beach chairs that sat you so low that your posterior barely cleared the ground. I thought they were pretty comfy, so I paid him five bucks and brought them home, giving one to son Matt, and keeping the other for myself.

Remember, I bought these a few years ago when I was much more supple than I am today. Normally, getting out of this chair isn´t a problem. I admit, I have to get my feet under me just right, but I´ve done it scores of times. At Wednesday´s game however, the game changed. Big time! We were set up on the third base side, which sloped gently away behind us. Gently, but just enough to throw the geometry and physics off. I looked like a beached whale trying to get out of that chair. I couldn´t get my feet under me. Finally, I made it, but lost my balance in the process (Now I´m sounding like an old man). Toppling to my right, I caught the end of the arm on Linda´s chair between my ribs. It felt like someone had hit me with the butt end of a shovel.

I didn´t hear anything crack like I did when I went head over heels off my motorcycle and landed on my back. I actually heard my ribs break when I hit the ground. But that was years ago, and another story. Impaling myself on the arm of a camp chair was a relatively silent affair, except for  the rush of air exhaled from my lungs. 

But here it is, Sunday night, and with every move I make, those ribs protest vehemently. I can´t lay on my right side, and can´t sleep on my stomach. I´ve never been able to sleep on my back, so my options are a bit limited. But I look on the bright side. I have twenty three ribs that feel just fine, which isn´t too bad for an old, unbalanced guy like myself.

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