…I’ve come to talk with you again.
Last Friday Ethan and I purchased an elliptical trainer at the city’s surplus property auction. Yesterday we picked it up. This isn’t a trainer intended for home – it’s a commercial one. That means it is HEAVY. So heavy, in fact, that I drove around with it in the truck all day because I couldn’t lift it to get it out. After all, it took 4 men to load it in the truck to begin with.
When Greg got home we tried to unload it and, well, that’s when IT happened.
As I was trying to step up onto the porch, the machine shifted, knocking me down. And as I went down, I heard…
And there I lay, on my left side, with what is probably a 400-pound machine atop me.
Well, we got it off of me and Greg asked if I needed help up. I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t hardly move at all, my head was swimming and I couldn’t hear.
But I managed to get up myself. Then my vision started getting a little fuzzy around the edges (weird, huh?), so I sat back down – this time in a chair.
After sitting there on a slow burn for a few minutes because I had managed to completely ruin our evening – wherein we were supposed to go test-drive a truck across the river – I decided that yes, we probably should go to Urgent Care. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I DID know that when I tried to put weight on my left leg it went whoop! right out from under me. No support at all.
I also insisted we have supper first because, well, I’d already fixed it and I was hungry and dammit, I wasn’t going to leave without finishing my goulash and salad.
Greg’s dad came to watch the kids (we are so grateful for that, thank you PawPaw!) and away we went, Greg tortured with guilt because he’d asked me to help him pull the trainer out of the truck. That’s entirely silly, because I was the one who DID it and accidents happen, nobody’s fault, but if you know Greg, you know it is not unusual for him to feel guilty. He should be Catholic.
Ethan, on the other hand, has no such affliction. Although he was sympathetic to my plight before we left for Urgent Care last night, once we returned home and he had a chance to lie in bed and think about it, he came out of his room demanding to know why the hell he wasn’t able to go to soccer practice last night.
Sweet kid, that one.
So anyway, the long and short of it is that I had an x-ray and nothing was broken. Yay! But, the doc said, I ‘definitely sprained’ my hip.
I’m back on the crutches, lots and lots of Aleve, and physician’s orders to call the orthopedists if I’m not seeing improvement by week’s end. Oh, and let’s not forget the boatload of Reese’s products Greg picked up for me when he picked up my Aleve. I ate every bit of it last night.
Maybe his guilt isn’t such a bad thing after all.