I’ve only ever broken one bone in my life–my toe. I stepped on it my first week at my first real job in NYC. I was holding like twenty pounds of stone samples, climbing up a foot stool to put it on a top shelf and had taken off my four inch heels so I wouldn’t break my ankle. In true klutzy Ashley style, I lost my balance, stepped back off the stool and stepped right onto my second toe and SNAP. In two places. There’s not much you can do for a toe besides buy your first pair of flats, waddle and look ridiculous for a couple months.
Now, I can’t say whether I’ve actually broken anything at the moment because I’m not about to go get an x-ray taken but I know bruised ribs and I do not have a bruised rib. This weekend was a long weekend and a bunch of friends and I rented a cabin up in Estes Park for a couple nights. There was plans of our own version of the winter games which mainly ended up being hot tubbing, competitive eating, drinking something called a painkiller that tasted a lot like a pina colada, the hardest puzzle on earth, watching a lot of skeleton on TV and Cards Against Humanity. You may be confused as to why I started this paragraph talking about my not-really-bruised-ribs, which may be implying to my broken ribs.
I wish I could say it was because of skiing, or an epic trail run, or even in making snow angels which were really ice angels because it’s been too warm and then freezing too often for nice powdery snow here in the front range of Colorado. I wish I could say it was any of those things. Instead, Friday night there was an incident with a hot tub, me being a klutz and falling. I was getting out of the hot tub when I slipped, crash landed into my poor friend Scott and his unfortunate knee and then, thinking nothing of it, carried on my merry way the rest of the weekend, complaining only mildly of how much my ribs hurt. They hurt, but I figured it was your standard bruising and since I don’t actually bruise, what the hell did I know?
Sunday morning I woke up in more pain than I’ve known in a while so I opted out of snow shoeing and went home, hit up Trader Joe’s (because TRADER JOE’S!!!!!!!!!), lounged around in my hammock in the backyard because it was 60 out and became increasingly more and more worried because it fucking HURT to lie down and it hurt to breathe and OMG DO NOT COUGH.
It was becoming increasingly more obvious that I had not bruised my ribs. I had most definitely cracked one of them. And yet I still skied on Monday, despite
screaming gasping every time I bent over to pick up my skis and we won’t mention the buckling of my ski boots. That wasn’t pretty. Ohhhh no.
Of course during skiing I was still pretty much in denial that I had actually hurt myself. So I’m giving myself a little bit of credit.
Last night I found I could only lie in one position–on my left side. I could not sleep on my back, I could not sleep on my stomach (my favorite) and I could most definitely not sleep on my right side (my second favorite). Getting up was agony. Every time I tried to roll over in my sleep I woke myself up because HI, PAIN. Today was absolute hell–to the point where my coworker made me laugh and then I cried real tears of pain because DON’T MAKE ME DO THAT.
There’s nothing I can do for a cracked rib so I’m not even bothering going to the doctor. Let’s take x-rays so a doctor can show me where I cracked my rib and not be able to do anything about it! Money grows on trees! My friend’s fiance recently broke his rib snowboarding (he was on flat ground about to go put his board away so he could eat at a restaurant so it almost makes me feel better except he was still snowboarding and I WAS IN A HOT TUB) so he gave me some pointers, like breathe deep. Something which I don’t really like doing but am trying since they have scared me into submission by saying I could get pneumonia or other lung problems. Because of a cracked rib! WHO KNEW.
Who knew I was also the biggest klutz whose only injuries ever sustained were caused only by her own doing?
Oh, yeah, everyone. Remember when I gave myself a concussion with my laptop and refused to get stitches? I still have that laptop, thankyouverymuch. And barely a scar.
At least I pick bones that can’t be mended by more than just time and patience. Right? Silver linings. Now I’m going to go figure out a way to prop myself up on my left side so that I don’t accidentally roll over and scare my roommate half to death when I shriek bloody murder at the pain it causes. Oh, and so that I can sleep. That may be important, too.
Also? My mom is going to be so mad at me that she found out I broke a rib on my blog. Hi, Mom! Look, you’re on my blog! Shiny objects! It’s really not that bad….