So, last Wednesday, I slipped and fell in my tub.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, readers. That sounds HILARIOUS! Surely, this post will be filled with a humorous story, illustrated with funny cartoons…and it will most certainly finish with a zinger of a punchline! This is gonna be great!
But in truth, friends and neighbors, it’s hard for me to joke about the incident just yet. Mainly because laughing (as well as sneezing, yawning, farting, stretching, and lifting) hurts like hell.
Here’s how it went down. If you’ll recall, we live in an apartment that was decorated in the early 80s. We have the pleasure of enjoying fake wood paneling, cheap carpet, and a wallpaper-covered piece of plywood that serves as the back splash behind our oven. Needless to say, the tub is no exception to the rule. It used to be one of those with a textured bottom, to help keep its inhabitants from slipping. But since it’s been used now for almost 25 years, that helpful texturing is now gone.
In the past few years, we’ve spent a fair amount of dough trying to remedy this problem, mostly with bath mats. We’ve had them in all shapes, sizes, and textures.
And recently, we’d found one that seemed to work. Sure, it would gradually slide a little to the right from time to time, but we always were able to pull it up, and restick it to the bottom of the tub for maximum anti-slippage.
So after an hour-long torture session at the gym on Wednesday morning, I wasn’t even thinking about the potential for a rib-crushing fall as I stepped into our middle-aged shower. In fact, I was more focused on my aching legs and abs—which is why, when the bath mat came out from underneath me like Tony Hawk’s first skateboard, I was more shocked than anything else.
I vaguely remember thinking to myself, while staring at my red toenails as they soared over my head, that I was impressed my pedicure was going on 2 weeks old without chipping.
If I’d just let gravity take its natural course, and landed on my really round rumpus, I probably would’ve bounced a couple of times and been fine. However, in an instinct older than time, I tried to catch myself by putting my arms out. It worked—I did manage to catch myself. But my entire body weight came crashing down onto the lip of the tub, ribs-first, where my arm worked as the brake. I also bashed my head into the wall. I was left breathless and seeing stars.
I sat in the bottom of the tub for what felt like hours, the water beating down on me, trying to take a breath. But the impact had knocked the wind out of me, and the only thing I was able to squeeze out were a few rogue tears.
My cat, Dizzy, however, had no problem filling his lungs. As soon as I started trying to gasp for breath, he instantly knew something was wrong and began yowling at the top of his voice. I thought for sure that Brian would have come running at this point, but he’d been vacuuming the living room when I’d headed toward the shower. Naturally, despite Dizzy’s best efforts, Brian couldn’t hear him over the roar of the vacuum. Finally, I took a huge breath, and my chest filled with fire and glass. I shouted for Brian–once, twice, and finally a third time. By the time he found me, the pain associated with the fall had started to set in, and my muscles began shivering in protest.
I came away from the accident with bruised ribs, achy muscles, and a very minor concussion.
Sounds pretty bad, right?
That’s because it was.
So much so that I threw myself a big ol’ pity party this weekend. Party excitement included: closed blinds, stretchy pants, pain killers, multiple blankets, junk food, old movies, avoidance of phone calls and text messages, occasional mournful glances at my bruises in the mirror, and absolutely no eye-contact (even with my cats.)
I watched depressing movies, cried a lot, and generally felt sorry for myself, from morning till night. It was SO much fun. Aren’t you glad I didn’t invite you?
In conclusion, I’ll be adding the following items to my 2013 wish list: anti-gravity boots, full body armor, and a football helmet.
Oh, and a new bath mat would be nice, too.
(Look at that! I managed a somewhat snappy punchline after all. Go me.)