Behold, The Walking Wounded

You think you had a lousy weekend?

Sit down, sport.

So I was out on Friday night with friends, walking along. What I didn't see, and what I should have seen, was what turned out to be a tripping hazard.

Face, meet pavement. 

I broke my nose, and did some damage to my right knee. 

No, I was not drinking.

I went down, my face met the pavement, and I started bleeding. And cursing. A lot of language, that, well, the Sisters Of Little Or No Mercy would not approve of.

 My friends, one of whom doesn't do well with blood, took care of me. I did have the presence of mind to realize I was in shock, hence all the shivering and trembling, and I did curse a lot more when I saw a photograph, taken at my request, of myself with blood running all down my face. No, that photograph is not included in this post and never will be. 

And so I was off to the hospital, courtesy of said friends, having had left behind pavement that looked, well, like a crime scene.

What can I say? I'm a bleeder. I'm still wondering precisely how much I lost. Suffice it to say it'll be awhile before I'm giving blood again.

A hospital emergency ward is no place to come into at any hour of the day, and it's been years since I've been in one. Last year I had a bit of an injury courtesy of a left turning driver oblivious to the rules of the road and the fact that pedestrians have right of way. His driver's mirror gave my arm a glancing hit as he passed right in front of me. I was pissed at him, as you can imagine. But this being the height of Covid, a hospital was not the sort of place I wanted to be in. And that turned out to be nothing more than a bruise, but this was the sort of thing that I couldn't just tough out.

So I ended up in emergency.

The nose was bleeding, both knees felt uncomfortable, with the right flaring up, and I had a low grade headache. The sort of thing you'd expect. Now anyone who's been in an emergency ward knows you're triaged according to your condition. If you're having a heart attack, they're seeing you right now. If you're the idiot who stumbles over and breaks his nose, it's going to be awhile. I was in for the night. For the record, the staff were great. They're already in a stressful job, and the last year and a half have made it all the more stressful. 

The doctor had lots of questions, checked off areas of concern that he had. No, there was nothing wrong with my neck. He had me go through x-rays for the knee, and a CT scan for my head. The X-ray tech was a pro about it, and I had just the one moment where a leg adjustment really hurt. As for the CT scan? The tech was also a pro about it. I can see how that machine can be a problem for someone with claustrophobia, but this was my first experience with it. I found it quite relaxing, actually.

Diagnosis: possible mild concussion, with a list of things to look out for and things to do. None of which have yet shown themselves. Hairline fracture in the nose, which has been numb ever since, and a strained leg, which explains why it feels more painful.

The doctor gave his recommendations upon releasing me, and I asked about the chances of arthritis in that knee. I've already got it in the other one, thanks to an accident a few years back.  

Saturday I got home, slept a lot, ate very little, and generally felt awful. Sunday involved sleeping off and on most of the day, keeping my leg elevated, and making a whole lot of use of a cold compress acquired from the hospital on both my leg and my face. Incidentally it's a weird feeling to have that cold against your nose and eyes and just lie there. But the sleeping has helped. The headache faded away after Saturday, and none of the signs typical of concussions have shown themselves. As of yet. And as weak as a kitten as I felt on Saturday, that's improved as well. My appetite is slowly returning too.

I was lucky. A slightly different fall would have broken my neck and my last word in this life would have been fuck. 

I've got time off from work to rest and recover; colleagues are handling what I would be doing. Benefits of doing the same when they're sick or have personal days. Also benefits of being able to bank your sick days. 

Generally speaking I'm taking it very easy, sleeping a whole lot, and spending way too much time staring at my ceilings, which are uniformly blank.

Two days make a difference: this was me on Saturday late in the afternoon, looking dazed. Blood was still caking parts of my facial hair.

I took this on Monday afternoon after shaving most of it off. The scar at the top of my nose would be where I broke it. Most of the tip of my nose is scar tissue, as it wouldn't wash off like the rest of the caked blood. I look like I got punched by Rocky Balboa. 

I'm mending.

And I'm absolutely sure my friends will never let me hear the end of this one.