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What happened

09/09/2010 @ 9:47am

People have been asking me what happened.

I can’t really tell you what happened.  I know what happened BEFORE and I can tell you what happened AFTER, but DURING is a little fuzzy.

Our garage doors were about thirty years old. When I bought them, they were the cheapest doors made, so they’d reached the point that their value as doors was somewhat hypothetical.  I hadn’t decided for sure whether I’d put the new doors in the same openings, so I just ripped everything out, which left a 24 foot hole in the front of the garage.  As holes go, that one seemed about 12 feet too wide, so I went to the shop to get a 6 x 6 to hold up the roof.  On the way back, carrying the 6 x 6 on my right shoulder, I stopped and picked up a level so I could set the post straight, and then went into a shed to grab a sledgehammer.  With an eight foot long piece of lumber on my shoulder, turning around wasn’t an option, so as I was backing out of the building I tripped over the wheel of a tractor mower.

This is where things get a little fuzzy.  You know in a Roadrunner cartoon when the coyote falls off a cliff and a couple seconds later the whole world falls on his head?  It was a little like that.

After is easy.  There were x-rays, a CT scan, a brace, a cane, a cast, and some fairly significant embarrassment.

I remember not being able to stand up, because my knee had apparently gone on strike. My thumb didn’t seem to be working either.  When the same kind of thing happened to me about a quarter of a century ago, my first thought then was, “Who’s going to do chores?” 

Last week, my first thought was, “Well, there goes my deductible.”

Times change.

Before I could go to the doctor, there was still the issue of the potentially collapsing garage to deal with, so once I finally got up, I picked up my lumber and hobbled over.  Sticking the post in place wasn’t that big of deal, but doing it with one leg and one hand made it more bother than I thought it would be.  While I was working on it, I started to dream a little: maybe I was hurt badly enough that I’d be laid up for a while and my neighbors would all get together to finish up all my projects for me.  Reality quickly set in.  I wasn’t hurt that badly and let’s face it – my neighbors don’t like me all that much.

After I got my post installed, I went into the house to ask my wife for a ride to the doctor.  She didn’t yell at me, which I appreciated.  At the hospital, I had a chance to visit with some old friends, which was pleasant.  I guess I would’ve preferred to do it over a cup of coffee, although that would have made it trickier for them to admire my collection of scars.

Oh, well.  Last night I almost slept, and this morning I dressed myself, including tying my shoes.  I’ve ditched the cane, the cast comes off next week, and I don’t whimper when I walk without the brace.

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