.... that I broke my wrist. It was Super Bowl Sunday, and I was out walking the trails at State Park, and I decided to head back to the car. I hit a patch of ice, my feet went out from under me, and I swear, during the split second that it took me to land, I had time to think, "I KNOW I'm supposed to roll up and land on my side but ohmyGod what if I break my hip and I have to crawl back to the car and I guess I'd better let my arms take the brunt", and I stuck out my arms behind me as I fell and broke my wrist. D'oh!
And of course, the first thing you do after taking a header is jump up and look around to make sure nobody saw you. Which really wasn't a concern, since there was, like, two other cars in the entire park that afternoon. And the next thing I did was move my fingers, and then my wrist. I was pretty sure from the pain that something was broken, but I wasn't entirely sure. At first I thought that I'd drive to the emergency room, but then I remembered what the emergency room looks like on weekends, and instead I went home, wrapped up the wrist in an ace bandage, and called the doc on Monday morning.
Due to the vagaries of our fine, fine healthcare system, it wasn't until Wednesday that I was actually able to see a bone doctor and get a diagnosis of "yep, it's broken." They wanted to cast it, but I insisted on a removable splint, so that I wouldn't have to wrap a damn trash bag around the cast every time I needed to shower or do the dishes.
Moral of the story? You probably should do that whole "roll up in a ball and land on your side" thing. Just let me know if you break your hip.
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