yikes!
your story reminds me of a series of unfortunate events that happened to me a few years ago:
Walking the neighborhood at a good clip to see the holiday lights with my family, I interrupted the hub as he turned to say something to me to point out a particularly pretty door-front. True to his husband training, he whipped his head back around to look and I slammed full-body into an overturned metal shopping cart that was shoved against the fence.
Wrapped my chassis around that thing like Bugs Bunny, ricocheted off, rolling down the sidewalk and into the gutter where the muck finally stopped me.
I was a ball of pain.
The hub mistakenly tried to haul me up, a look of horror on his face- or at least that’s what it looked like from my streaming eyes. I’d had the breath knocked out of me and here he was, desperately trying to get me back up.
I finally made it up, the hub exclaiming he’d run home for the car. I told him no, I needed to walk this one off as I felt my body already stiffening. I brought up the rear, dragging my more injured leg behind me, stifling tears.
I got no sleep that night. Rising painfully the next morn to go to an early class, I tried to camouflage the horror facing me in the mirror with makeup. Shaky and exhausted, I put too much makeup on one eye (navy blue eyeshadow- what was I thinking?!), couldn’t wipe enough off, so I had to match the other one, and before I knew it, Drag Queen.
I tossed my hair (long at the time) hastily into a clip, grabbed my jacket and took the hub’s car to class.
Of course I was late. I finally found a tight space close to the bldg entrance. Stiffly exiting the hub’s car, I hit my head on the lower than I’m used to door jamb and limp myself to class.
All the terminals were taken and I had to drag myself behind the instructor to the far side of the room to an empty seat against the wall. A kind man, he tried to reign in his look of alarmed concern as I tried to quell my occasional exclamations of pain.
After class, I met the hub and puddytat and a couple friends for lunch. As I sat down, my girlfriend asked me about the dried blood all over my jacket.
WHAT?!
I examined my reflection in the window and saw that I had grabbed the last night’s muck-covered jacket (it looked like dried blood!) and saw that in banging my head on the car, my clip was crazily awry and very lopsided on my head! This, combined with the overdone makeup and igor-like walk must have made a real good impression on anyone with sight!
Took me more than a week to move without wincing.
Hang in there, DR. You’ll make it out.