mock me and my fragility.

so KAT emails me: "I hope you don't mind, but i blogged about your inability to walk and carry a plate at the same time." she was concerned that it would have offended me and my delicate sensibilities. actually, she didn't think so, but the PH told her that it in fact would offend me.

so she was just covering her bases: "you're fine, right?"

as it turns out, i wasn't exactly fine. i broke a rib. i mean, i guess it happens. it's not like this was my big excuse not to hug my extended family members at shower that i still attended despite my fragile condition.

(which was followed by a voice mail that said: "you BROKE YOUR RIB?!")

here's how it happened. i was barefoot in the kitchen - insert joke here about it being my usual place - and walking towards the living room. i was carrying both a plate and a glass, and tripped - or actually, it was more like a slip. and because instinct was to protect my pizza, i lifted my arms when i fell, and happened to land square into the corner of an end table, full weight of the corner jutting into my ribs, under my arm. ouch!

j's reaction was, well, to laugh. to laugh, and come immediately to my rescue. "how on earth did you do that?"

i was crumpled against the wall, whimpering. my pizza and juice had launched into the living room. bailey was too afraid of the crash to investigate, however. it definitely knocked the wind out of me.

i had it checked out on Monday. by now, the bruise has actually faded, but you can actually see what appears to be the broken part. or at least the badly hit part. it was just blue and black and a little purpley. then it was mostly black and purpley. and then it was yellow and black. and now it's yellow, black with a big red line, and it's very swollen. when i put my arms down, it feels like on one side, i'm inflated. kind of like i've had side breast implants. but only on one side. and really a lot less attractive, i would imagine.

and it hurts. a lot.

also, one must feel for my poor husband, as i had to undergo a lot of questions. and yes, i feel fine with my relationship, and not at all threatened. (now i know what poor steve must feel like...) he really is a gentle man. but when we visited my parents the other day, my dad asked him "what are you doing to my daughter...?"

"just trying to keep her in line..." he responded.

well, not really.