I am full of Grace ( not the Jesus kind )

So every year around Halloween we decorate.  And by decorate I mean DECORATE!  It is Mrs. TPoP’s birthday so the day has double meaning for us.  When our kids were younger we had all the expected decorations like the blowup things, pumpkins and so on. As the kids got older, the decorations started getting ‘scarier’ instead of cute.  For several years we were known as the Zombie House as our decorations were zombie themed.  Each year the zombie corral got larger and larger as we got more mannequins and dummy.  We even secured temporary fencing to enclose the zombies into a pen which let us put even more things in there like fog machines and sound effects.  Last year we decided to switch up and went with the CarnEVIL, a clown/carnival themed display.  We made our driveway into a midway with games for the kids to play and the front half of the garage a bit more scary with animatronic clowns and my wife and boys in scary costumes.  It was a big hit among the neighborhood and we still get compliments on it.  We are repeating the theme this year albeit with a few different games.  Last year 2 of them broke as they were cheaply made.  I learned this year.
However that isn’t the post topic.  Today I am talking about injuries.  3 years ago while putting together the decorations I messed up my shoulder.  I couldn’t pick my left arm up over my head without severe pain.  Now I put up with pain every day.  My feet, knees and hands constantly hurt.  they hurt so much that most of the time I don’t even register it as ‘pain’ anymore, just an annoyance.  So when something on me hurts, it probably hurts a lot.  The next year while taking the decoration down from the garage rafters, I broke my damn foot stepping off the ladder.  It was my left foot so I was still able to get around, but it sucked big time, especially trying to get everything together. Last year I ended up breaking my right foot just before Halloween.  I sucked that one up until afterwards but finally couldn’t take it anymore and went to the doc.  Wore a boot for 2 months and thought it was healed, but ended up having to have a screw put in it March the next year as it never would heal fully.
Enter 2019.  For the last week I have been diligently building and putting things together, trying to be very careful.  Mindy dropped a pallet on my foot once, but I survived that.  I smashed my left hand under a box but survived that.  Then Monday night happened.  So I am taking out the garbage around 11 PM. I drag one can out and go back for the next.  As I am taking the second can down, I see a dog run across the sidewalk in front on me. Then I notice that it is My dog Cali.  WFT!  She must have got out behind me.  She doesn’t really go anywhere but like to pee on the tree out front.  So I finish taking the can down and then yell at her to get her butt back inside.  She finishes peeing, runs towards me then turns up the drive.  I start walking after her and she stops, so I point and yell again.
It is at this time that me, being the graceful human that I am, hit my foot on the edge of some of our setup and begin to fall forward. I swear I am at that age when I keep envisioning myself falling and breaking a hip and dying 2 weeks later.  My whole life flashed before my eyes in the 2 seconds it took for my 260 lb bulk to drop.  When younger ( and lighter ) you tend to bounce when you hit the ground.  Now you just stick.  So here I am falling and I at least remembered to protect my head.  So hands go up in front of my face and down I go.  I hit the pavement with my hands and my chest hits the edge of one of the pallets and then I roll to the side, now laying on my back on my driveway.  You want to know what words were going thru my mind right then?  If you know me you know what they were.  Hell, even if you don’t know me you probably know what they were.  As I lay there fuming, Cali jumps on my chest to try and lick my face, causing me immense pain.  NOW I yelled, and scared the crap out of the dog. I sit up and assess my situation.  Feet feel fine.  While I hit the offending piece with my foot I didn’t twist it or anything, so I can still walk.  Head is fine since I protected it.  Chest hurts like hell on my right side where I caught the edge of the pallet.  Kinda hurts to breathe.  My left thumb feels like I sprained it and my right hand looks like I was in a fight.  All the knuckles are bleeding and my index finger may be broke.  It certainly doesn’t want to move like the rest. So I finally pick my self up and go inside to clean up.  Band-aides, Alieve and a few ice packs later, I still have chest pains and my index finger barely moves.  It’s now midnight, not going anywhere now.
Tuesday morning comes and I wake up, momentarily forgetting my pains.  Until I stretch, that is. I must say that hurt quite a bit.  Showering was a pain, dressing was a pain, everything is a pain.  However I must go to work so off I go.  So here I am, my already limited typing compromised by my index finer and loading and unloading paper is difficult as I have to work with smaller stacks. I have a conference call at 11 and them off to the doctor to see whats up, maybe get some good pain pills. 3 hours and 8 x-rays later, they determine that nothing is broke, and lungs are OK.   I have a strained chest muscle (he said the name of the specific muscle but hell if I can remember that) and about my finger, his quote was “Well, you sure TRIED to break it, didn’t you?”. All I get for my trouble is ice and some pain pills.  Let me tel you, they didn’t work.  Wednesday morning I am in even more pain in my chest.  Breathing hurts, turning certain ways hurts and sleeping was almost impossible last night.  Going to take one of son’s muscle relaxers when I get home tonight and just chill.  This sucks because I still have Halloween stuff to finish.  I’m also going to complain to my Aflac guy.  I bought Aflac after my broken foot earlier this year.  I figured it would end up like a protection talisman and I would never get hurt again so that I would have spent my money and got nothing to show for it.  It failed!  Oh well, at least I will get a few bucks for my pain and suffering…
This morning when the alarm went off at 6:45, I momentarily forgot about my pain and reached my arm up to slap the alarm button.  That was a bad move.  I felt like I got stabbed int he chest and woke up son #2 with my yelling.  It took me about 45 minutes before I could get out of bed after that and here I am, typing this with fewer fingers operational and barely moving.  Sucks getting old.  But better than the alternative…

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