Randy and I are not superstitious people.
We don’t throw salt over our shoulders or worry about bad luck coming from broken mirrors or walking under ladders. We don’t even knock on wood.
Hell, once I even got married on Friday the 13th. I mean, it didn’t work out. And that guy is dead now. But still.
That being said, we’ve come to dread the month of January, because for a number of years, fucked up shit has happened in January. Randy said something about it just after the new year. I told him I wasn’t worried. This January would be fine.
And then, last Saturday, I fell in a hole.
I don’t mean I went down some mental rabbit hole. This isn’t figurative. I fell in a hole. Up to my hip. My superhero name isn’t Amazing Graceless for no reason.
Saturday morning was cold and foggy. A perfect time to get out and take some pictures.
Randy and I have been taking pictures in random places in Cincinnati. Not for any reason, really, just because it’s fun. I mean, fun until someone falls in a hole.
We were in a run down, industrial area west of downtown, right along the train tracks and the Ohio river. There aren’t sidewalks or anything. This isn’t a place where people usually congregate. But we found a little area to park out of the way of traffic.
Randy and I were congratulating each other on the pictures. The ground was frosty, cold as fuck, but worth it.
I took this picture and stepped backward to re-frame it a little.
I stepped backward right into a baby Jessica sized hole.
For a moment, my entire world turned upside down. I felt like I was falling.
That is some terrifying shit, y’all.
My right leg was consumed to my hip. I don’t believe my foot touched ground, but I don’t know for sure. I pitched backward, which was fortunate. I think if I had gone to either side I would have probably broken my leg. Which is exactly what I thought happened as I lay on my back, on the frozen fucking ground, with no gloves, a hat, or any appropriate winter clothing.
Randy helped me up and sort of dragged me to the car. I could move my leg, but couldn’t use my leg at all. It was like there was an empty place where there used to be a knee. All that existed was pain and no strength.
All this happened before 8:00 am.
We waited until after noon. I had to admit I couldn’t walk and we visited the emergency room.
So, Randy dragged me back out to the car and we took off.
I guess my silver lining is that I’m going to satisfy a big part of my insurance deductible early in the year. Yay.
A nice person with a wheel chair took me right back for x-rays. We settled in for about a 2 hour wait for the doctor to read the x-rays.
Fortunately, nothing was broken. I sprained a knee and a hip.
It doesn’t appear I’ve done any other damage. They sent me home with crutches, which is adorable, and prescriptions for pain relievers and muscle relaxers.
I really do need the crutches, but I’m not good with crutches.
If you use them correctly, there is a moment where both feet are off the ground. Both feet. I don’t do well when I have one or even two feet on the ground. I fall down. I run into things. Both feet off the ground is just not a good idea.
I sent my boss a text to let him know what happened. I wasn’t sure how bad I was hurt, but knew I would be working from home for a few days. My clumsiness is not a secret. My boss told me once that when he calls me and asks me to come to his office, he’s afraid one day I won’t actually make it.
He responded to my text saying that it was inevitable that one day I would step into a hole and who let me out of the house anyway. For my safety, I should only be allowed to go home, to work or to my car.
I sent my friend, Lizzie, a text and told her about my most recent injury. Honestly, she’s used to these texts. I sent her the last picture I took before my right leg did it’s white rabbit act.
She said it was a perfect picture for a blog post.
Then, she sent me a series of “knee” tweets, including but not limited to:
- Bet it will be a real knee slapper
- Knights who say knee
- Patella Fitzgerald
- Tibia or not tibia
- Does this make me a knee jerk?
- B B B Bent knee and the jets (I told her that one was a stretch but it was still funny.)
- Glad it tickles your fun knee bone.
At that point, we hadn’t yet gone to the hospital. I had no idea how badly I was injured. She made me laugh and that is everything. I love her so much.
I let Lizzie know that we were leaving to get x-rays. She responded with “Well, you kneed to know,”
The day after we went to the ER, a nurse called with some information.
I hadn’t slept the night before. I was taking muscle relaxers and pain killers. I hadn’t eaten for hours and was slightly out of it. All I remember was her telling me to take all my medicine as prescribed. That the scan showed something twisted, but honestly, I am not really sure that is what she said. She said something about somi doma fluid. Randy has since informed me that is actually called synovial fluid. And that I should come back in 5 days if I’m not better.
At the time, I just wanted her to stop talking. I was in no mood for knee fluid talk.
So, last night I went online to check my medical chart for notes as I probably should have paid attention to what the nurse was telling me to do.
I read the notes from my admission, and this is what it said:
patient claims she “fell into a hole.”
What? I mean, why would I lie about that?
No way anyone can ever know that I tripped on a rock. Not ever. We have to tell them I fell in a hole. Let’s get these stories straight. I fell in a hole. Don’t forget. A hole.
When I checked my chart, Randy was sleeping, but I felt it was important enough to wake him up and tell him about the chart.
Me: Dude…wake up. I think the hospital thinks I’m lying about falling in a hole.
Randy: How many pain killers did you take?
Me: Seriously. My chart says I claim I fell in a hole. But with quotes. Like I’m lying.
Me: I mean, I guess it make sense. What kind of grade Z sci-fi movie hellscape would that be? Where human beings sometimes randomly fall into holes? That is just crazy talk.
Randy: I’m going to need to count your pills. Maybe, you should set a timer.
Me: I’m just saying, why would I lie about falling in a hole?
I’m still working from home. I thought about trying to go back into the office tomorrow because yesterday, I seemed to be feeling much better. Today? Well, today the rest of me is really angry with my right leg, because it is not pulling it’s weight. My left, uninjured leg is killing me. Probably because it is used to supporting only one of two glorious, yet substantially sized butt cheeks and now it has to support both cheeks. The palms of my hands are also snippy and they have to do bear the brunt of the heaving lifting when using the crutches.
I guess we’ll see. I feel like once I can walk to the bathroom and back without the crutches, I’ll be good to go.
I took this picture while we waited in the little E.R. cubby.
Honestly, it would have been helpful if I had seen that sign when we were taking pictures.
Kind of. Not the “call” part. Who would I call? But definitely the “don’t fall” part. That would have been super helpful.
If I’d known about it when it happened I would have said, “Well, at least this is the worst thing that’s going to happen to you today,” because I’m not superstitious. If I were I’d worry that saying that would guarantee something worse would happen to you. And it did: whoever fell out your chart didn’t believe you fell in a hole which, in a way, is worse than falling in a hole.
Those pictures are amazing, by the way. I’m just amazed there wasn’t some graffiti around in that area. I thought of that even before I got to the picture of the “Call, don’t fall” sign which looks like it was designed by Keith Haring. But what the fuck is up with that sign, anyway? How is calling supposed to prevent you from falling?
Graffiti…you are right, there isn’t a lot down there. I am a big fan of that art. I usually don’t even mind getting stopped by a train because I get to see moving artwork. I’m always pissed when there ISN’T graffiti on train cars.
The call don’t fall…we were in this tiny cubicle with a regular chair and a recliner. Smallest ER cubby I have ever seen. I think they put that there so people who are waiting don’t try to get up and move around without help. But I think it’s only for people with mohawks.
I thought I got all my emergency room stories from Kristine Lako (Medium. Prior – Adulting In Progress). Now I have to look after you too? Lizzy is a riot. Although I’m not sure laughing while in pain is helpful. And of course they doubt your story about falling into a hole. Not interesting enough. They didn’t believe me either when I broke my foot when the heel of my shoe got caught in a track of a sliding glass door. I should have said that I kicked a football 50 yards barefoot. At least that would have been impressive.
Lizzie keeps me laughing. She is very funny.
And yes, that would have been terribly impressive.
I am not superstitious just careful doesn’t stop me falling over or out of bed
I’m surprised you got to see your chart, isn’t that on a “kneed to know” basis? “Call don’t fall”? Now they tell you. At least this is a good distraction away from the goddamn Republicans… Hope you feel much better very soon. Every time I fall down I remember all of the times I crashed my race bike and then I think “How is this the thing that does me in?”
Yeah, the system I am in gives us access to our charts online, so that’s nice. Other than they think I’m a liar. Haha.
Honestly, I will not be at all surprised if my demise is caused by a fall. I’m so fucking clumsy.
I recently posted that ‘Aikido taught me to move with a modicum of grace, but my cats taught me to look where I put my feet.’
Now you can say ‘if photography has taught me anything, it’s that I need to look where I’m putting my feet…’
Oh my God! I’m sorry for laughing at your pain but jees Michelle, only you! Poor Randy probably only took his eye off of you for a second. I do hope you feel better soon. I’ll have a bourbon for you, since you probably shouldn’t mix alcohol with pain killers.
I’d rather laugh than cry any day
Hahahah. “Glorious yet substantial sized butt cheeks”. Tell us- what REALLY happened? You can’t have “fallen into a hole”??!!
Right? Because that would be impossible.
I mean…in the hospital’s view it would have been much better if Randy had taken pictures before he pulled you out. Would have made for a better blog post too. (I know, I know…very fun knee.) Seriously though. Tell Randy. PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN.
On the bright side, sounds like the perfect excuse to have brown knees.
I can’t tell you how much I would have kicked his ass if he had stopped to take pictures…and speaking of brown knees, he got some mix to cheer me up and never made them…so, looks like he’s got something to do for me tonight. haha