Me and Igor, we’re like this…
If I were a horse, I’d have been taken out back and shot. Or at least, that’s what my parents always threatened to do when I was younger.
The limping started about a week and a half ago. I blame ‘Art.’ See, I’m in a show. I needed to get used to my costume before we moved to theatre. It’s the shoes’ fault. The shoes are kick-ass red. They zip up at the back with these snazzy make-you-want-to-do-unmentionable-things-to-me straps that go around my ankles. I am fierce in these shoes. The only thing I remember before the injury was that I zipped them up. Yes folks – injury by zipping. (How many men just winced?) I had to convince my Achilles Tendons to fit into these fabulous shoes – you know, on account of the fact that I have such… well-defined… tendons. I think maybe I convinced my right foot too hard – now it hurts to go downstairs. And when I point my foot. And when I flex it. Strangely enough it doesn’t hurt to just WALK on it. But I do have quite a hitch in my get-along when I’m descending a staircase.
and Gene Wilder as Dr. Frankenstein
in Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein
Last night… Injury by tucking in. Bed time with the kid. Me, exhausted, from packing up our office. I flopped down on top of Rissa – not unlike a dolphin out of water. Then, as I prepare to hug her, I moved my right arm along the top of the quilt – and something ‘popped’. Rissa didn’t hear the pop – all she heard was the screaming the accompanied the pop.
“OH NO!!! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO NOOOOOOOO!!!! Oh CRAP! CRAP!!!!“
“What?!? What did you DO?!?”
“I think I just separated my shoulder.”
“AGAIN?!? Mummy!”
“I didn’t do it on purpose! I was just trying to hug you!” I tentatively try the movements that usually hurt when I’ve injured my rotator cuff. To the side – not terrible… To the front – a little more ouchy.
“Daddy! You better come in here! Mummy just hurt herself.”
“AGAIN?!?“
“I am not as clumsy as… Would you help me up please?… as you think I am.”
“Un-huh…”
“I’m NOT!”
David, enters with the Traumeel. “Where does it hurt?”
“From my shoulder to my elbow…”
“Pardon me?”
“FROM MY STUPID SHOULDER TO MY STUPID ELBOW!!!” I’m already starting to favour my right side. The hunching has begun.
“How? How do you do this to yourself?”
“My ligaments are weird. I’m a dork.”
“Yep.”
“This is a different pain though, so I don’t think that it’s the rotator cuff this time. That’s good, right?”
David kisses me. “I’m so glad that you’re a glass half-full person.”
