So, I’ve been wondering if disaster was going to strike for weeks now, and yes a minor one did, just a couple of hours ago. Wonderful! It really is…and yes that is sarcasm you’re reading there. Hah.
But first the day, wouldn’t want to interrupt the usual routine by something like this, so here we go:
Last night getting to bed in time was a disaster, and I didn’t actually manage that monumental feat until six in the morning, making me at least twenty minutes late when it is time to rise, and I’m more than a little annoyed with the entire thing.
Luckily this isn’t a workout day, so all I really have to do was take down dry laundry and organize some of the mess in the kitchen. It doesn’t matter that little sister meticulously cleans all the counters each and every night with care; every morning there will be something that needs to be done.
No matter, however, it is a beautifully sunny day–without wind for a change–and seeing as we’re going to need to make head shots soon, big brother and I decide to take the dogs on a walk out in the garden so we can soak up some rays.
It’s a bit of hassle, even without the younger siblings’ packs, because Knight II and Trin Trin (the monster boxer) has a tendency to pounce on other dogs whenever she gets excited.
First big brother attempts to take the boxer with him–tightly leashed of course, because all his dogs are swirling around him, as usual–while I follow from a slight distance with my pack surrounding me and Knight II who’s clasped firmly by the chain attached to his collar.
Though Trin Trin doesn’t much like the idea of leaving the house without me…she thinks this to be the case…brother manages to get her as far as the courtyard gate when she realizes that I’m close behind and starts to throw up a fuss.
Understanding that this isn’t going to work this way, I take the boxer from big brother’s hands, while he, instead, will keep a close eye on Knight II who’s bouncing about, still indecisive about who he’s going to bother on this extraordinary little outing.
Luckily I manage to get to the top of the mountain without major mishaps, what with big brother taking a different path, allowing the dogs to find their interaction on their own and thus remain relatively peaceful.
It is a wonderful day to be outside, I admit, the sun shining brightly overhead and giving a beautiful view of the valley and the sea below. Off the west the top of a mountain is covered in snow, while lush green hills stretch all around, allowing me to snap quite a few pictures that are bound to end up online at some point.
We stay outside for a least and hour, playing with the exuberant dogs, enjoying the sunshine and basically just chatting about nothing consequential. When the time to return to the house has arrived with the distinct feel of a hot skins that haven’t seen proper daylight in weeks, the dogs are out of breath and literally running to the water bowl to quench their thirst.
Once back inside, we set up our computers to start work for the day. I already know that little is going to get done, and taking that in consideration I get online to do some fun chats and post the review of the medieval novel I finished reading this morning.
I think it came out well enough. No spoilers for those don’t want them and yet enough information for potential readers to get an idea of the story. Heck, I wish I got a review like that someday, hah. It was deserved, however. I had a wonderful time reading it.
After this I get offline and attempt to focus on writing instead. I only manage a page and half, or so, which is fine considering I’ve written a lot over the past week. With this page, I’ve now brought the story up to at least half the length, and that is worth celebrating every day in my book.
I feel a tad restless for some reason, and after spending a while cleaning my computer keys (piles of dog hair have somehow found their way beneath them) I put the laptop safely away.
A new batch of laundry is done by now and I hang it during dusk with the MP3 player pounding in my ears, just the way I like it. Next I move on to cleaning kitchen drawers, which have, of course, accumulated quite a bit of dirt during the rain we’ve had during the course of the weeks. I am most pleased about the ease with which the dirt comes off. It indicates that we did an excellent painting job.
While I’m doing this, little sister is cooking dinner. A sturdy vegetable potato mash served on large chapatti-like pancakes since it is an Indian dish. It is delicious, but for no reason that I can fathom, I only manage to eat a small portion.
I’m not feeling at all well at this time. My eyes are drooping constantly, and my mood is everything but cheerful even through watching “House” and “The Mentalist” which were both good episodes.
By the time “Las Vegas” (it always follows the two others) draws to an end, and with it the evening, I’m already pondering my eminent departure for my cabin, looking forward to turning in early when disaster strikes.
I’m seated in my usual place, Knight II is snoozing a couple of feet away from me, curled up in an old chair that hardly holds his considerable form, when noises of descending dogs on the stairs startle him to full alertness.
I sit up, already snapping a warning at him…which he ignores, the big lug…and lash out my leg to stop his progress as he comes barreling past full force, fully intending on starting his usual barking contest with black Barahm from the bottom of the stairs.
The moment his large, heavy body (a solid 100 pounds, if not more) slams into the side of my lower leg I hear–and feel–something snap. Viciously! The room around me turns black and white for several second when on pure instinct I jerk my leg back and out of his way. I can’t think when I wrap one arm under my screaming knee and press down on the top of the other, which sets of a whole new sort of ache, right on the heels of crashing waves tumbling up the limb. Another pop, this one softer, but by no means any less painful.
Around me I hear “What? What! What happened?” as I either hiss or whimper. The questions are coming from the startled sibs when I utter something that might resemble the growl of a rabid dog before a stream of barely articulate swearing start spurting from my mouth. I can’t answer them at all, since my full focus is on breathing in and out in a rather choppy fashion.
Holy crap! It hurts! Which are thoughts that constantly tumble through my mind when the blinding pain slowly ebbs to an ominous throb that has me nauseous and squeeze my eyes tightly shut while keeping my knee locked against my chest. For a minute there I fear that I’m going to vomit, panic rising since I’m pretty sure that I won’t be able to get up from the chair at all…let alone hurry for the bathroom.
I’m afraid to move the leg, especially since my foot is completely numb, but by the time I’ve managed to grunt between clenched teeth about what I think happened, big brother comes to my side with a bag of frozen corn to place on my knee raised knee.
He asks me if I can move my toes, and after a couple of tentative attempts they do– even though I cannot actually feel them–at which time my teeth start to chatter and shock settles in with a chill that runs through my whole body, except my face, which is flaming red, I’m sure.
I hate crying, but it comes automatically when carefully big brother helps me remove shoe and sock from my foot that feels like it’s being cut off, and within several minutes we have my leg stretched out.
There is an insistent whine in the entire appendage, and I’m literally a mess as I sputter and try to control my breathing that stutters from my lungs in sync with the chattering of my teeth. Might be funny to see, but to do…well, it’s annoying.
While big brother is inspecting the damage, middle sister starts looking for Arnica gel and comes up empty handed, since for the life of me I can’t remember where I put it after the last time I used it.
With my knee getting pretty numb from the bag of icy corn, and the dull ache bearable, we decide for me to move to my room immediately, while the shock is still doing its job, and start on the seemingly endless way up to my cabin.
I lean heavily on mom’s cane, middle sister carrying my bag and the like while I slowly make my way up and finally reach the end of the path.
Admittedly, I’m a little frantic and more than a little upset when I finally climb the steps and enter the room, with middle sister watching worriedly. Together we start digging through cabinets and likes until finally locating the gel that is designed specifically for these kinds of mishaps.
I’m most grateful to middle sister who sees to my dogs while I apply the gel and wrap two supports around the throbbing knee that appears to be turning blue while I’m working on it.
The gel gives almost instant relief, which sets off a whole new set of tears as I mutter my displeasure at a guilty looking Knight II. Amazing how dogs always sense that they did something wrong. Now if only they thought about that before actually causing damage…ah well. I always knew that a Great Dane was going to open up a whole new can of worms.
Big brother comes up as well, bringing anti-shock rescue remedies and a few items I forgot to have middle sister take up, and helps with the remaining chores that need to be seen to every evening. By this time I’ve calmed down a bit and actually manage to control the chatter of my teeth and breathing enough to give a proper recount of what happened.
In the end, with big brother’s departure, I get through the evening rituals–be it on the slow side–and come face to face with a new problem: Getting onto my bed (it’s high, almost three feet) without using my knee as a boost, or twisting it when I use the other. It is a rather uncomfortable experience, but at last I’m seated, my leg stretched before me and wrapped up tight and I wait for the ibuprofen to start working.
At long last I turn the computer on in hopes of winding down for the night.
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