An Explanation, and I'll Try to Be Brief for a Change, But I'll Probably Fail in That Regard

I'm tired of writing about myositis, and so I've neglected to mention something from a couple of days ago. Because of the benign acute myositis, my muscles are not very strong right now. They're ordinarily as strong as anyone else's  muscles, and  in a matter of time will again be just as strong as they're supposed to be. Right now, though, I'm struggling a bit.'

I'm mostly supposed to remain in bed, though I can get up to use the bathroom, and I do take one bath a day. I haven't been expressly told to stay off the stairs, but at least one of my doctors felt that it went without saying.

On Friday afternoon, I desperately needed a change of scenery. I tried opening my curtains and blinds in my bedroom, but it was still my bedroom. I could have gone to my parents' room or to the library on the second floor -- the same floor as my bedroom --  but neither seemed sufficiently stimulating to ward of my almost terminal feelings of boredom. My cousin, who is twenty, was at my house, but he was asleep in his bedroom after a long week of work and classes. I really didn't want to wake him.

I chose to very carefully make it on my weakened legs down the stairs to the living room. I might have been successful in making ot down the stairs safely had my right leg not chosen the worst possible moment  -- when I  sneezed -- to go totally weak to the point of limpness. Had I not been so well-encultured with modern concepts of hygiene,  I might have hung into the banister wile sneezing, in which case I would have been fine.  However, years of being told to cover my mouth and nose when I sneeze are not easily overcome even when a good reason to ignore them exists. About two steps from the very top step, I released my hold on the banister with my right hand in order to cover my mouth and nose,  My left hand, feeling the effects of the myositis more than is my right hand, couldn't hold on by itself. The force of the sneeze caused me to release my one remaining hold on the banister and to go tumbling head over heels  down the stairs.

The noise of my fall, which my cousin said sounded roughly the way he would expect an earthquake to sound (he's not a native c=Californian and therefore has yet to experience the real thing) woke him immediately. i dind''t even have to holler out his name. One lesson I learned from this is that I might just have well have saved myself a lot of pain and everyone else a lot of trouble by waking him in the first place for help down the stairs, since I ended up waking him anyway.

My cousin wanted to call 9-1-1 immediately, but I was sucessful at convincing him that such was not necessary. My uncle Michael, who lives five minutes away, was not yet home, but his wife, my Aunt Joanne was. On her way, she called a physician friend who lives just a block from us, who was at my door in about two minutes. Five minutes after my Aunt Joanne arrived, my Uncle Micharl, who had been called, showed up. My Uncle Scott arrived at about the same time. My parents, who were at my brother's baseball game in Los Angeles, were notified as soon as there was anything of significance to tell them.

The consensus after examination was that there was no spinal cord injury and no badly broken bones. No ambulance would be needed. I tried with my best persuasive skills to convince all the doctors present that their expertise was more than enough and that a hospital visit would be a redundancy. No one was convinced. I then tried the "I'm eighteen years old and am capable of making my own medical decisions," line but that contention was approximately  as persuasive as was  the "no hospital visit is needed because of all the doctors present" argument.

My most inured-appearing limbs were splinted. the consensus was that my Aunt Joanne'sMercedes SUV would be the most comfortable ride, so I was driven to the hospital by her.  my Uncle steve, who is my primry care physician, was already on his was to the hospital from his town of residence and location of practice in a small town roughly forty minutes away, because he visits patients in the hospital here at least once a day. His family was with him because they were tired of their "hick town" [their words, not mine; I think it''s a nice little town]  and had invited themselves to spend the long weekend at our home instead.

So by the time i got to the hospital, my Uncle Mkichael,  Aunt Joanne, Uncle Scott, Uncle Steve, Aunt Heather, who is a nurse practitioner with privileges at the hospital, Dr. jeff, my shrink who is an MD, and Dr. Smit, my rheumatologist, were there. many of these doctors and/or nurses, also had children with them, who were essentially redecorating the hospital, and not in such a way that any hospital administrator would approve. My cousin took the kids back to our house with the guarantee that within an hour someone would be there to relieve him so that he didn't spend the entire night babysitting.

I underwent a few neurological tests, a couple of X-rays, and a CT-Scan. The expensive scan and Xrays told me that i have 9drum roll) /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ BRUISES! I do have two broken ribs, but in the grand scheme of things, what area couple of broken ribs? God actually removed an entire rib from Adam in order to create Eve, and the Bible doesn't mention a single accoun tof Adam's  pain or disability as a result, and we all know just how well men tolerate pain.  An ankle has a very slight sprain, as does my right shoulder, but the most prominent of the injuries, in addition to the ribs, are the bruises. I also have what is likely to be a slight concussion. The only thing that changes is that I won't skype classes for a week. Notes will be sent to me,. I won't even be allowed to see them until Monday the 25th of February. If all goes well, I'll be back in class in the flesh by March 4.

I may seem more verbose than usual, because I am.  I'm bored stiff, so I'm, writing about anything and everything I can think of each day until my computer is taken away. I  may even write an unauthorized biography of Mitt  Romney. If anyone has any smut on him, please forward it to me so that I  may include it in my volume.

This, too, shall pass, and in the words of the late great General MacArthur, "I shall return,"  although I haven't actually gone anywhere.