Sunday, August 13, 2006

Two Seconds = Four weeks

It would have taken two seconds -- probably less. In two seconds or less I coulda locked the gate on that stupid carabineer.

Instead, here I am, almost two weeks later I can hardly move unless I'm pumped full of percocet. My ankle doesn't seem to be getting better ... actually seems to be getting worse. My ribs don't hurt as bad as they did last week, but are now making a funny sound when I move in certain positions The sound is kind of like the sound one of those "bendy straws" makes when you bend it or pull it all the way out. (Yeah, weird.) My hand, at least, seems to be healing. It's far from being in "let's go rock climbing" shape, but it is at least progressing.

I haven't had a good depressing pity party over my accident yet, so I guess now, alone at 2:00 a.m., is as good a time as any. A two second mistake is causing me to be laid up for four weeks, maybe even longer... and there's no one to blame but me. I did have fun going to a Dragon's game the other night, then paid greatly the rest of the night and next morning for overdoing it. My wife and I went out with dear friends last night, normally a regular event, and a fun one. Instead I looked at this as a special treat, and I was miserable. I had missed a dose of pain meds, and I couldn't enjoy a beer with my friends because I needed to go home and take my meds, and according to the label percocet and beer don't mix.

If one more person tells me, "It must be great having four weeks off work" I think I'll shoot them. (Oh that's right ... I can't shoot them. My freakin' index finger won't bend far enough to pull the trigger!) It's not as if I can do anything around the house... I try to clean the place up a little for my wife, but it's hard when you can't bend over, lift anything, or even stand up for more than a few minutes without being in pain. I have enjoyed spending more time with the kids ... although I imagine they are quite tired of their lame dad limping around the house on crutches. So I sit around the house, probably gaining weight since I can't exercise, bored out of my mind and sick of TV.

Yet, in the middle of my pity party a voice pops in my head and reminds me how incredibly lucky I am... I coulda been hurt a lot worse. Pity party over. I need to get healthy again so I can get back to work ... and more importantly, so I can go back and climb that sonofabitch cliff.
2:30 ...

I can take two more pills in a couple hours...

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