The Curious Case of the Multiple Injuries

1 Jun

I divide my past into four parts: things I can’t remember, things I don’t want to remember, things I do remember, and things I wish I remembered.  But, everything that has happened since Wednesday falls in the two first parts.


On Wednesday, I had my annual physical from the same doctor I have been going to since I was fifteen.  Under normal circumstances, I’m fine, healthy, happy, and an incurable optimist.  But, on Wednesday, changed their algorithm on how they rank websites.  I found out about this earlier that morning, but I received confirmation right before I walked into my doctors office.  And, the first thing he did was to test my blood pressure.  Normally, my blood pressure indicates I’m in a coma, but given the fact that I knew that there was a real threat that Google’s decision would cost me literally hundreds of thousands of dollars, my blood pressure was…slightly elevated (150/80).  My doctor told me to track my blood pressure.  Since I’m a cheapskate, rather than purchase my own blood pressure machine, I decided to use my parents’ machine.  This turns out to be a big mistake.


There are three things you have to know to understand what happens next: I’m a sleepwalker–a bad one–I have such vivid dreams that I have trouble telling what really happened and what is real (only for the first ten minutes of my day), and I am really, really scared of snakes.  And, when I get stressed out (the program was still running what rankings were lost or grained), these negative reactions come to life.  Wednesday night, I dream that a snake is in my bed.  Reacting with gracelessness under fire, I jump out of my bed and sprint right for the bedroom door.  But, I seem to have forgotten where my door actually is and I ran into the wall creating a fairly large dent (this is the only thing I am proud of for the past several days).  At this point, I wake up, and stagger backward and in an effort to stabilize myself, I grab onto one of my bookcases, and fall backwards….taking the bookcase with me to the ground.  I had a great realization as I fell backwards and I thought to myself that “I’ve read all of these books…why aren’t I smarter?” Pinned down under my bookcase, I did damage assessment.   I sprained both my wrists and my ankles were pointed in a direction that I hadn’t been able to bend them since I was eight years old.  The agony.  (What gets me is that I thought for a brief second that over fifteen years of Internet porn, my wrists should be indestructible due to non-stop use.)  Still being somewhat asleep, I think that I see a large snake in my bed coming after me.  I squirm my way out of the bookcase, and judging by the damage to my bedroom, I took at least two laps around the room to build sufficient momentum to get out of the room as quickly as possible.  (Total injuries: 2 sprained wrists, 2 sprained ankles.)  


My week went downhill from there.  


On Thursday, I needed to take my blood pressure, so I was at my parents’ house, but before I did that, I retrieved a book from my childhood bedroom, and I received a sales call.  Now, my Mom babysits my two nephews a couple times a week, and on Thursday both my 3 year-old and 6-month year-old nephews where at my parents’ house.  My 3 year-old nephew, Luke, is a….in polite society, he is rambunctious, by which I mean, a huge pain in the ass.  And, he races around the house leaving messes in every corner.  So, when I walked out of the bedroom, on the phone, trying to be the stud-muffin of a deal-maker, I didn’t notice the Thomas the Train play figure right in front of the stairs.  I remember stepping on it and being surprised as I tumbled down the stairs, I wondered just how any bruises I would get from this (total injuries: 2 sprained wrists, 2 sprained ankles, and six bruises).   


This isn’t the embarrassing part.  


The embarrassing part is that I called the my contact back, and decided that I should raid the downstairs fridge for a flavored water.  And, I didn’t notice another Thomas the Tank toy sitting right above the downstairs basement.  And, as I slipped down my second flight of stairs in three minutes, I couldn’t help but think that I fell down the stairs much better than the last stairs.  (Total injuries: 2 sprained wrists, 2 sprained ankles, and 9 bruises.)  As I laid at the bottom of the stairs, I heard Luke, my 3 year-old nephew, laughing like a hyena, and this is when I realized that little kids could be little jerks, and there was nothing I could do about it.


Dusting myself off, I retrieved my flavored water and went back up stairs to play with who I thought was the least likely person to hurt me, my 8 month year-old nephew, Wes.  He was eating and, from what my Mom told me, had just discovered throwing things.  I thought, no problem: he can’t throw anything large.  What I didn’t think of was that he could throw things sharp.  Halfway through our lunch, my supposedly sweat little nephew suddenly developed the skills of a samurai warrior throwing Chinese stars.  He looked at me, drooled, and throw his baby fork directly at my left eye (this is my good eye; if I lose an eye, I want it to be my right one, the crappy eye).  He missed by centimeters.  (Total injuries: 2 sprained wrists, 2 sprained ankles, 9 bruises, and a fork to the side of my left eye.)   


The next day, I’m taking my blood pressure when my Dad asks me to setup the house’s network for wireless Internet.  The problem with this is that my parent’s have both PCs and Macs…and multiple computers, so I had to go to rooms that I didn’t think they had been in for years.  So, I found myself wiring a computer in one of the guest rooms.  I was on my back underneath a very large desk pulling wires through when my arm kept brushing against a nail that was only half way in and loose.  I decided, impulsively, that I should remove it since it was in my way.  After I took it out, I realized there was a problem: the entire wood blank of the desk, what you put your computer on, had come free and was now falling on me.  The plank hit me right in the sternum, and, to add to this, the monitor fell at right angle, and nailed me right in that very sensitive angle that men dread.  (Total injuries: 2 sprained ankles, 2 sprained wrists, 10 bruises, fork marks to the left eye, and the worry that I will never be able to sir children.)


On Sunday, as I was taking my blood pressure, my Dad asked me to help him move a butcher block table.  My parents’ have an obnoxious habit of moving furniture around.  I have actively avoided getting involved in this for years, but I was cornered and I had to (my blood pressure blow up from 110/50 to 160/70).  The problem with this is that we had to move the table from the garage to the basement.  They have a walk-out basement so the easiest way was to take the table outside and walk it around.  The problem is that there is still snow on my parents property, particularly on the slope that we were walking down.  As I was walking down the slope, making the best effort to get a firm footing on snow, my Dad slipped…and I slipped at the same time.  I went to a position no grown man should ever be in and my Dad, dear old Dad, dropped his side of the table.  When we both slipped, there was a fundamental difference between how me and my Dad reacted.  He dropped the table: I held on.   This created a lever and, much like a door, and it was swinging in my direction.  I didn’t at the moment understand the physics involved but I immediately made a decision that I would later conclude was…stupid.  I leaned back.  As I watched the table fall on me, all I could hope was that I wasn’t falling on geese feces (I did).   (Total injuries: 2 sprained ankles, 2 sprained wrists, 10 bruises, a fork mark to the left of the eye, a worry that I will never be able to sir children, and what is probable a concussion…plus dry cleaning for goose feces.)  After all of this, my Dad still made me carry the table to the basement…and my Mom just told me she wants my help moving the table back to the garage. 


On the other hand, I won a bet today.  The bet was that my cousin would get divorced.  It only took me 18 years, but I got the twenty bucks.  Oh, and bye the way, hunt and peck is a terrible way to type.




PS My doctor thinks I have a blood pressure problem…I think I have a relative problem


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