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pameladeanI think the subject line is about all I really have to say about events in the world.
On my little square inch of ivory, I now have three half-finished LJ entries languishing while I scrabble around saying OW. This is because on Friday evening at Minicon I tripped over my sweetie Eric while we were rounding a corner together, talking animatedly (neither of us can now recall what we were talking about) and rushing to meet David, Lydy, and Ctein for dinner before Opening Ceremonies. I fell flat on my chest, knocking the wind out of myself. I am proud to say that even while I was making Unnnnngggggg noises getting air back in, I thought, "So THAT'S what that feels like!" Several members of the hotel staff were very concerned, as were my dinner partners. It might have been smarter to try icing the injury right away, but I was, amazingly, still very hungry and didn't want to miss Opening Ceremonies. In any case, I felt I was reasonably accurate in my assessment that the problem was not on the surface.
Half the people at Minicon seem to have bruised or cracked a rib at some point in their lives. The general advice was to ice the area, take anti-inflammatories, and not do anything to aggravate the pain. When I saw the doctor a week later, at an appointment previously made for a blood-pressure check, he said pretty much the same thing, confirming everyone's assertions that the medical profession really couldn't do much about the situation. I can't take ibuprofen because it makes my hands swell up ("Weird," commented my doctor), but acetaminophen worked all right for pain control, along with lavish applications of Ben-Gay. He gave me a prescription for Flexeril, which I filled, but I haven't taken any. The patient information sheet alarmed me too much. I have become blase about the possible side effects of antihypertensives, but not about random other drugs, apparently.
I managed my reading and my two panels at Minicon, although I was really not all there for the Sunday afternoon one. I can still, two weeks later, only sleep in one position; at Minicon, I had to build fortresses out of most of the available pillows before I could lie down at all; and since the hotel pillows were soft, these fortresses would gradually subside and need to be flung about and rebuilt several times every night. This kind of activity cuts into one's sleeping time. Fortunately, David, Lydy, Eric and I had split out into two rooms rather than piling into one, so I could have a bed to myself. I am much obliged to Eric for helping me put on my shoes, and for hanging around while I discovered whether it was possible to take a shower. Being in a hotel with high beds, a shallow tub, and a grab bar was probably a good thing for the first few days after this ridiculous event.
At this point, I can cough, breathe, and laugh without any difficulty. Sneezing is still very painful. At Minicon, I had to develop a special high-pitched yelp from the top of my chest so that I could laugh. I perfected it under emergency conditions at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mrissa's reading.
This is the first spring in five years that I haven't had some kind of book deadline, but I can't garden until things heal up. However, I look forward to being able to sleep in a normal position someday. My cat is puzzled, but persists in sleeping as close to me as he can get, pillow fortresses or no pillow fortresses.
Pamela
On my little square inch of ivory, I now have three half-finished LJ entries languishing while I scrabble around saying OW. This is because on Friday evening at Minicon I tripped over my sweetie Eric while we were rounding a corner together, talking animatedly (neither of us can now recall what we were talking about) and rushing to meet David, Lydy, and Ctein for dinner before Opening Ceremonies. I fell flat on my chest, knocking the wind out of myself. I am proud to say that even while I was making Unnnnngggggg noises getting air back in, I thought, "So THAT'S what that feels like!" Several members of the hotel staff were very concerned, as were my dinner partners. It might have been smarter to try icing the injury right away, but I was, amazingly, still very hungry and didn't want to miss Opening Ceremonies. In any case, I felt I was reasonably accurate in my assessment that the problem was not on the surface.
Half the people at Minicon seem to have bruised or cracked a rib at some point in their lives. The general advice was to ice the area, take anti-inflammatories, and not do anything to aggravate the pain. When I saw the doctor a week later, at an appointment previously made for a blood-pressure check, he said pretty much the same thing, confirming everyone's assertions that the medical profession really couldn't do much about the situation. I can't take ibuprofen because it makes my hands swell up ("Weird," commented my doctor), but acetaminophen worked all right for pain control, along with lavish applications of Ben-Gay. He gave me a prescription for Flexeril, which I filled, but I haven't taken any. The patient information sheet alarmed me too much. I have become blase about the possible side effects of antihypertensives, but not about random other drugs, apparently.
I managed my reading and my two panels at Minicon, although I was really not all there for the Sunday afternoon one. I can still, two weeks later, only sleep in one position; at Minicon, I had to build fortresses out of most of the available pillows before I could lie down at all; and since the hotel pillows were soft, these fortresses would gradually subside and need to be flung about and rebuilt several times every night. This kind of activity cuts into one's sleeping time. Fortunately, David, Lydy, Eric and I had split out into two rooms rather than piling into one, so I could have a bed to myself. I am much obliged to Eric for helping me put on my shoes, and for hanging around while I discovered whether it was possible to take a shower. Being in a hotel with high beds, a shallow tub, and a grab bar was probably a good thing for the first few days after this ridiculous event.
At this point, I can cough, breathe, and laugh without any difficulty. Sneezing is still very painful. At Minicon, I had to develop a special high-pitched yelp from the top of my chest so that I could laugh. I perfected it under emergency conditions at
mrissa's reading.This is the first spring in five years that I haven't had some kind of book deadline, but I can't garden until things heal up. However, I look forward to being able to sleep in a normal position someday. My cat is puzzled, but persists in sleeping as close to me as he can get, pillow fortresses or no pillow fortresses.
Pamela
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no subject
Date: 2011-05-05 08:08 pm (UTC)Of course, then I would have had to make Serious Andrew Face, which would have spoiled it. I don't know if you've ever seen me make Serious Andrew Face. It is...a thing. (My friend Andrew has a very long, narrow, solemn face. On him it is rather handsome. My attempts to replicate it are...not.)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-05 08:28 pm (UTC)I think we'll defer my viewing of Serious Andrew Face until things are healed up, however.
P.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-05 09:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-05 09:28 pm (UTC)