If I ever got around to making one of those 100 Things About Me Lists, two of the things that would be on it are the fact that I've never broken a bone and never had a cavity. I'm really proud of both facts, although I'm less and less sure that they're attributable to anything but dumb luck.
Witness: What started out as a scrape on my knee from the car accident in January has morphed into some mysterious injury that is not responding to ice, rest, ibuprofen or cortisone injections. I counted myself as lucky to have walked away from that accident relatively unscathed, but now I can't help but thinking that a simple broken leg would have been healed by now, goddamnit. I know, I know. Stupid. Unbroken bones are always better than broken bones... but still: WAH. My knee hurts and I haven't been able to run or work out for months. I couldn't even go to yoga this week. Not. Good.
I was forcing myself to lift weights 2-3 times a week just to get in some semblance of exercise, and then I went and did this:
I was mauled by a polar bear that mysteriously jumped out of the woods. And Sawyer was riding on its back. Shirtless.
Fine, fine, that's a lie. I was actually hit by an 18-wheeler carrying a load of smuggled bio weapons that careened out of control when Jack Bauer shot out the front tires and singlehandeldly saved the day.
FINE. I tripped on a curb and fell, alright? Stone cold sober. But it was raining and kind of slippery SO THERE.
Wait, there's more. That nasty looking scrape slowly turned into an even nastier looking bruise:
Which then took over my arm...
Which refused to fade ELEVEN DAYS AFTER I
FELL WAS MAULED BY A POLAR BEAR...
Don't worry, though, I'm juuuust fine. I had four x-rays taken of that bad boy and it's "just" a "bone bruise". Just like the one on my knee! I match. Awesome!
Pardon me, I have to go and compulsively brush my teeth now. The never-had-a-cavity thing is all I've got left.