Here's a day-by-day recap.
Friday: The Dog Tried To Kill Me
I am nearly blind without contacts or glasses and like most middle-aged people who are in this predicament I have learned how to navigate my way to and from the bathroom in the middle of the night with no sight. Most nights, this happens with a minimum of injury. This past Friday night my dog tried to kill me by lying directly in my path. As I was gingerly trying to step over what I knew to be her sleeping blob at the foot of my bed, she nervously tried to move out of my way. Her huge collie-butt collided with my size 8 foot and I catapulted myself over her so that I wouldn’t hurt her when I went down. When it was all over and done with, I sprained my knee and my elbow and have some pretty serious rug burn on my cheek and eye socket. I really think I might have gotten a hairline fracture of the cheekbone, but never did go to the ER to get it checked out. As she is getting on in age herself, I have cut her some slack in her previous murder attempts at night. This time all the animals got a life sentence of no more sleeping in my bedroom at night. Of course, this translated into all of them waiting breathlessly at the door just waiting until someone opened it up enough for them to make a mad dash through the opening and my husband and I opening the door just enough to toss them back out (repeat endlessly throughout the weekend).
Saturday: Shuffled Along Like an Elderly Woman
Due to the injuries from the night before, the pre-existing mid-back arthritis and disc issues, I walked through Saturday like some old, decrepit, foot-in-the-grave woman. I was moaning and groaning my way through the Farmer’s Market, turning heads with my brilliantly colored rug burn that was not very well covered by makeup. Every time I dropped something I had to estimate the value of the item being picked up against the pain I would incur by actually trying to bend over. I left a trail through the market, let me tell you, but I survived the day. I made sure I survived the night by taking some pain-killers and going to bed.
Sunday: Slicing Pineapple With My Thumbnails
On Sunday morning I decided I would like some fresh pineapple purchased at the market the day before. So I got out my handy-dandy, super sharp pineapple peeler/corer and merrily went about my business of slicing pineapple. It might have been the fact I just got out of bed, or the fact that I was hopped up on vicodin from all the injuries, but I totally wasn’t thinking when the base of the pineapple got stuck and I flipped over the corer to push it through. Yeah. A few choice words, tons of blood, and a box of bandaids later I was good to go. At one point, every member of my family had commented on my unusual grace and panache. I made it my goal to make it through the remainder of Sunday and into my bed without further injury.