Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘ER’

I’ve been drafting posts. Drafting, drafting. Deleting. Saving. Ignoring. Bored, boring.

Before I can post today’s post, I have to go back a few weeks and fill you in on my life. You think keeping up with your own life is hard? this is what it takes to keep up with mine. Some of these details were filled in in this post and this post. I’m scattershot. I’m restless. I have no confidence in myself as a blogger any more. This is why

[Wednesday, August 15]: I re-injured my rib last Thursday morning [August 9], leaning over from the driver’s seat to the floor of the passenger side, putting pressure on the arm rest with my lower front -side ribs. OUCH!

It didn’t hurt terribly until Saturday [Aug 11] but with the help of rather constant ibuprofin, salt baths, and ice, I managed to do most of whatever I needed to do.

Tuesday [Aug 14], we went to pick up Violet at her friend’s house, only 40 minutes from the beach, so we thought, why not hit Crane for a couple of hours? I was fine at the beach, fine in the 60 degree water, sort of able to fall backwards and do an itty-bitty back frog- stroke and an itty-bitty breast stroke (no real backstroke or crawl, though reaching my right arm overhead on land seems quite comfortable).

Just as we were packing up, I did something to the right side. Something horrible. Something startling and painful, deep-in-the-gut, take-your-breath-away painful. Each of my hands started to go numb and my head got light and fuzzy. I thought I was going to throw up or pass out or both.

We skipped dinner and grabbed Violet from her friend’s. I complained and freaked. I alternated between not feeling any pain to being filled with crazy fear. I inhibited, I om shanti‘ed, I centered myself, I thought my best Alexander thinking.

I decided I needed to go to the ER.

We went to Emerson Hospital on Rte 2, right outside of Concord and near Walden Pond. How can you go wrong with a hospital named after Ralph Waldo? I must be the luckiest busted-rib girl in Massachusetts. That and the doctor was good-lookin’. But there were no female doctors, so eff that.

Though taping or binding ribs in cases of fracture is no longer recommended, I fortunately ran into my PT friend this week [Aug 16] and she said she will put some of that kinesio tape (like the OLYMPIANS!!!) on me tomorrow night. Not in fuscia to match my hair, but hey, I’ll take skin tone if it means I can start moving more….please please please let me bike and hike and yoga soon.

Here’s a photo recap of last Thursday’s Gogol trip:

common sight on I-91 and/or I-89 in VT

Me and secret kid in back seat (note fuschia hair, hint hint kinesio tape designers)

Gogol show was rain delayed and by the time they played, there was only an hour and a quarter before they were kicked off stage, 10 pm curfew!!!! CRAPPY and not a great show. No encore. I was in the front “row” most of the time, grabbing my side lest someone should slam into me. I found 2 women at the show who had read one of my older Gogol posts but I did not find The Wanderlust Queen.

Next morning, we ate at one of the coolest restaurants in Burlington. Look what was in a couple of the tables upstairs:

Yeah. I know you don’t believe it. You know how I feel about rocks.

*

FIN

Read Full Post »