Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Why You Should Pick Your Battles (aka Don't Fight With Bricks)

I hope this post finds everyone well.

So let's chat about Friday night...

We had our best friends over. Normally that would mean a great, serious injury free, night. Well, those stupid bricks had other plans. This is the story of how four little bricks can ruin your life. Okay, maybe I'm being dramatic. But they have ruined my whole week! Little a-holes.

So, the night is going exceptionally well. Brad and I kept my bestie's two youngest children and we were tired, but despite that, once K & C came to get their kids, we stayed up to play a card game.

Hilarity ensued and we were having a great time. Then I needed to take a potty break. I walk inside, handle my biz-ness, grab a sweatshirt, and walk my little (and by little I mean kinda big) behind outside.

Then it happened.


I went down like a ton of bricks. It was a very confusing time for me. I wasn't exactly sure what had happened. One minute I was walking out of the door, and the next I am laying on my side, sprawled out on the concrete. (I am using the word "sprawled"loosely here, but it's more entertaining if I say "sprawled.")

K immediately bursts into laughter. What are best friends for? And then men rushed to help me up, as gentlemen do. In my dazed state, I ask what happened. They (without laughing) inform me that the bricks have fallen off the step. Well crap.

Upon standing, I realize I am gravely injured. I took the heaviest blow to my knees. Particularly my left knee. Blood is squirting. Okay, it really was more like slightly pooling than squirting, but blood is blood. Being the tough cookie I am, I try to laugh it off, but I know it's bad. Brad got to play doctor with his stolen medical supplies (a story for another day) so he was pretty happy. Not something I found very attractive. And that was that. Let the healing begin.

It's been five whole days, and I swear my knee is worse. I am convinced I have picked up some strange infection that you can only get from concrete in an open wound. My body aches and just moving my leg hurts. This could just be the road rash, and let this be a lesson to everyone about why you shouldn't google anything EVER. Nothing good at all comes from googling injuries. Especially weird concrete infections. K knows this. And now that I think of it, -K-, I would like you to know that I would at least make sure you weren't going to need an amputation before I went into hysterical laughter. Just saying, maybe I'm the better friend. ;p

But anyway. Here is a picture of the evil bricks. (Notice the bloodstained, flesh eating bacteria carrying concrete in front):

Well, the bricks mock me once more. You are unable to see the concrete.

And here is my (once beautiful) knee five days later:

Lovely, huh? You can almost hear the bricks laughing from here.

So if I still have your attention, watch your step. You never know when psycho bricks and concrete will attack. I imagine they have been plotting this attack for some time.

(Note: No, I do not have any flesh eating bacterial disease that i am aware of and most likely, my left leg will NOT have to be amputated. Just thought in case any of you cared enough to be worried, you should know.)

(Note about the above note: But I stand firm about the google thing. I still may actually end up having to get it amputated. ;) )

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