What’s it like to run with potentially a couple of bruised ribs? And how about with a possibly bruised tailbone/left butt cheek?
I’ll tell you Sunday.
The rain from this morning made the stairs a little slippery.
I was even being careful but apparently not careful enough. I missed a step or slipped on the edge and down I blowed. Crumpling to the ground, I slid and bounced another couple of steps before I could halt my descent downward. Really did a number on my backside. No blood, nothing broken I don’t think. But it sure does hurt like the Dickens. Which I think etymologically sues king comes from the idea of being hit with a hard back Charles Dickens novel repeatedly. That’s how I feel at the moment.
Good thing I just have a five hour flight, a three or four hour sleep, then a ten hour tour to see some elephants and whitewater raft. Never let it be said I did anything smartly. I only do it if it smarts. And boy does my back smart. I’ve got Salonpas patches on me like I was a rescued velveteen rabbit stuffed animal.
On the plus side, I treated myself to this to make me feel better. I mean a word of mouth aftertaste? Why WOULDN’T I try that!
Hell, Baymax was on the wrapper! I should be incredibly happy with my care.
I’ve cancelled the rest of Guangzhou sightseeing and am now sitting in the airport for the next five hours waiting for my flight. I may try and find a spot on the floor and just lay down. I wasn’t allowed to do that in the subway… nor apparently was I allowed to pose like Burt Reynolds in Playgirl.
I’m going to try and find my stash of advil in my overstuffed carry on and just curl up for a few hours. That might be a mistake. Given the aches and pains of my back, it could freeze in the curled position. But I’ll cross that bridge when I burn it.