It's Happened... My First "Old Man" Injury.

About an hour ago, I posted this to the much wondered about and discussed in hushed whispers "moderators only forum". Proving that we're just as vicious there, as everyone is out here... One of the staffers praised this just enough to convince me to make it public.

Of course I do so pretty much knowing that he's salivating at the ridicule I am about to receive!

My philosophy? A man who can't laugh at himself, truly doesn't have depth enough to laugh at anything! So, for your approval... the story of my real life afternoon. It appears here, as it appears there, with just a bit of cleaning on some of the more colorful terminology.

It's Happened... My First "Old Man" Injury.

Putting it here because, well I have to tell someone and there is no way that I am empowering the people in my real life with this sort of humiliation material. ( Writers note: And yet here I am, doing exactly that, just a short while later. But I said I'd post what I wrote in the moderators forum... and that is how the story started when I posted it there )

I remember when I was a teenager, maybe 14 or 15, the most hilarious thing in the entire world happened. My mother broke her ankle walking. That's all she was doing. One step, two steps, three steps, broken ankle. Now, I am not a sadist, nor a demon child. I felt bad, helped her out... even drove her to the ER without being legally allowed to drive yet ( My father was a drunk who would drag me with him on his outings - so I knew how to drive when I was about 7 years old because I would end up having to drive him home ).

But after they got the cast on her, and some pain killers into her system? That is when it struck me. She broke her ankle walking! The comedy ensued from there. How, I kept thinking to myself, does one mess around and break stuff when all they are doing is using that stuff in the way it was designed to be used???

She would have been about 40 at that time and, for the love of God... From my POV she was Mumra the ever living. FTR, now that she's 72 and even meaner? I am POSITIVE that she is Mumra... but that's another rant for another day.

So.... about two hours ago, I was sitting here with my legs crossed - for about 2 or 3 straight hours, when I decided to get up and refill my glass of fresh, tasty, southern style sweetened iced tea!

As I stood-up, I realized that my left foot and most of my leg felt like it was asleep. But big deal? I've had that feeling ten thousand times without any issue. So, I did what I always do. Stand, pivot, work around the chair, walk.

I made it two steps past the chair. As I tried to move my left leg for step number three? It just wasn't there. That " a bit asleep" feeling had gone into full on totally asleep. My brain and my nerves said "Sir, your foot is now lifting, feel free to step forward. And, as always, thank you for being my life support system.". My conscious mind replied by saying "Okey dokey! It's a go!".

My foot said "Forget you. I can't feel a damned thing. I quit."

But it didn't say it until the rest of my body was already deeply invested in the whole "moving forward" deal.

It is hard to explain but I had this weird moment where I was trying to interpret the strange signals that were racing up my body. It took a second for me to understand that my foot - which all systems were assuring me was at least an inch off of the ground - was, in fact, busily crashing and burning on the floor. My toes were in the middle of the process of being bent fully back as my body went ahead with plan "A" and my foot had frozen out in an abort procedure that never got CC'ed to the command post.

The fact that my entire leg was violently tingling, from being asleep, and was basically numb to pain did not help at all - as it totally postponed any reaction that an active nervous system might have allowed me. By the time I finally figured it all out, and got the upper 98% of my body to stop moving forward - I was standing with the top of my foot bent underneath and touching the carpet - strangely angled off to the side and away from my body.

In that instant, even without an ability to feel pain, my initial thought was "Yeah... that's a sprain". And I laughed because walking on the wrong side of my own foot is pretty darned absurd. It honestly went down like that shuttle crash from the beginning of the old TV series "The Six Million Dollar Man" - at least that was the thought that came to me as I was still standing on the wrong half of my foot - trying to figure out the proper and logical way to proceed.

Now? Now it's about three times as large as it should be and a funny purple color. I'm thinking that I might well have followed Mumra's example... and broken my own ankle walking.

I've done the heat/cold/ice pack thing, and wrapped it. The problem is that I honestly do have a really high threshold for pain. It hurts, but it's not like excruciating. Then again I broke my wrist a few years ago and refused to believe it was broken because the pain wasn't bad - and only went to the hospital because other people kept freaking out about how ugly it looked.

I guess if it's still purple later on tonight, or maybe in the morning? I'll go have an X-ray.

I hurt myself walking...

A long time from now, in some nursing home, I am going to have a moment of lucidity and recall this as the moment when the downhill slide really gained momentum.

End.

This is traditionally the point when the younger alphas all line up to attack the Silverback. So, on my one good ankle - I await the attack.