Complaint Department

Yesterday I decided that simply having a nonstop cough that will never go away was just not enough.  Though I have posted several times about this bronchitis spell I am going through, I was beginning to think that my complaining about it was getting old.  One can only say so much about coughing, right?  I never want my complaining to get stale; I never want my blog readers to feel like my whining has become stagnant.  No, I felt like I needed something more to grumble about. 

So last night as I got out of a cab, I found my opportunity: I decided that while crossing the street, I would trip on a pothole/bump in the road.  This would definitely give me something to complain about!  And to ensure full complainability, I made sure that the offending road damage was near the curb.  Smart thinking on my part.  I tripped, as planned, and I decided that I would also add humiliation to the mix, for good measure--you see, this was a busy street, and the sidewalk was teeming with happy folk out for a night on the town.  So I stumbled as though I were going to right myself, flailing my arms about and doing that kind of tripping walk that people about to fall are known for.  And I wanted to make sure that I actually made it to the curb (you'll see why in a minute!).  I did the stumble walk for several feet, making sure everyone on the sidewalk saw me.

And then down I went!  First, both knees crashed down on the street, sending searing pain to my brain.  And then with knees firmly planted on the asphalt, I flopped my torso down--and here's where it gets good--with my ribs lined up perfectly with the edge of the curb. My chest smashed into the curb with full impact.  The wind was knocked out of me briefly, but I still managed to also get some bits of pavement in my palm.

A kind group of women helped me up and retrieved my wallet, which had gone flying (it was still in my hand from having just paid the cabbie), and they inquired about my well-being, etc.  I was definitely in a lot of pain.  My left knee hurt the most, and I knew this was going to be a pain that would last for days--success!  It hurt to walk, to bend my leg, to straighten my leg, to have my jeans rub against my knee, etc.  And for the rest of the night, I limped, winced, and took a long time every time I had to stand up.

But I was a bit disappointed that my ribs were not hurting more.  I wanted my injury to tie in somehow to my bronchitis in order to increase my ability to complain.  I remembered however that when I cracked a rib in college, the severity of the injury took about 24 hours to come to fruition, so I still had hope.

And that hope has paid off!  I woke up today with some severe pain in my ribs, and I now believe I may have actually cracked one or two of them.  They might just be badly bruised, but it does not really matter--there is nothing one can do for cracked ribs anyway, except wait it out, sometimes for weeks.  And my knee is killing me, too!

Anyway, it now hurts to breathe, laugh, stand up, and move.  But the most painful thing?  Coughing!  Every time I cough, the intense pain shoots from my ribs outward through my whole torso.  With one well-placed curb, my bronchitis has gone from an annoying hanger-on to the source of true pain.

Prepare to read all about it.