Tuesday, Nov. 25, 2008

Forget Black Friday

Most women get hurt banging their elbows into another woman's face during Black Friday, trying to get their hands on whatever it is that women injure other people for.

Maybe it's a brand new Wii. A 40-inch Samsung LCD with full resolution. I remember a couple years back when someone shot another man to take his Playstation 3.

Sadly, it's not even Thanksgiving yet and I already hurt myself. And it wasn't even shopping for merchandise.

After wrapping up a Charter Cable plug for the Teen Zone at First Night, I headed to the grocery store to grab some ingredients for stuffed pork-chops. "I'll make a nice dinner!" I happily thought to myself.

I parked my shopping cart in front of my car and proceeded to step down from the sidewalk and onto the street. With two full bags in each hand, I felt my left leg twist outward, then I cringed as I watched the ground quickly rise upward.

I didn't hear a snap. I didn't hear a pop. All I heard was a crack...the cracking of a jar of chili in one of my bags as it hit the asphalt.

Now, I've fallen many times. I'm not the most graceful person. But every time I do, the most I suffer from are a few bruises. Never have I been a victim of a swollen limb or a dislocated joint. I used to pride myself on the fact I've never broken a bone in my body...until I found out that I had had a broken tailbone since I was five. And yes, it's still broken.

So here I am, lying on the ground, looking around to see if anybody was going to offer to help me up. Nobody was in sight. The parking lot was full of cars, but not a single person had watched me fall. I put my weight on my right foot, slowly trying to stand. Pain...agonizing pain paralyzed my body. Looking down, I noticed the cause of my fall. It was one of those 50 cent machine plastic balls that contain stupid little toys inside. The ball had caused me to roll my foot and what was rather impressive was the fact it wasn't even cracked. That's some strong plastic.

I managed to hobble to my car's trunk to put away my broken groceries, then jumped into my car to make my getaway.

By the time I got home, my ankle was throbbing and I tried to find a brace I had saved since my short-lived track career my freshman year in high school.

I had always pictured myself getting hurt in some dramatic way, not by stepping down from the sidewalk.

I went to a doc 'n the box this morning to make sure no tendons were fractured. My single-serving doctor attempted to steal my slippers, while my radiologist was full of more helpful information. Hospitals are weird like that.

They gave me a ankle wrap, which I delightfully accepted. It may sound weird, but I've always wanted one. It's probably an attention thing, but I've just always wanted to wear one and pretend that I'm some gymnastics star who hurt herself training for the Olympics.

While I won't be out at the crack of dawn Friday morning, trying to get my piece of the discounted pie, I will be browsing the sales online. That way, I can browse the sales in the comfort of my own jammies, with my ankle elevated on several pillows.

Besides, I already have a 40-inch Samsung and I've been happy playing LittleBigPlanet on the PS3. Do I really need to try 'n see what other injuries I can sustain on Black Friday?