Wednesday, October 15, 2008

My own mammary Monet.

I am not well known for my coordination. If you have met me in person, you were probably impressed at just how anti-graceful my 6 foot frame can actually be. I say this to help you give you a bit of insight into my constant state of bruises and injury. Most recently, I fractured my boob. Ok, it probably isn't really fractured, as I did some internet diagnosing I found you can't technically fracture a boob, but it is really really really purple. And yellow, and kind of gray in spots.

Don't get too excited. I'm not going to post a photo or anything. If you want proof, you'll have to meet me in person, get me drunk enough to believe it is Mardi Gras and show me some shiny beads. The rest of you will just have to take my word for it. My right boob is currently an impressionist masterpiece.

"How does one fracture a boob?" you ask. As a new expert in this arena, let me fill you in.
For me, the adventure started while I was sitting, cross-legged on my comfy chair happily twittering away. My children were running rampant in the living room after Big Dog's birthday party left them full of energy and all sugared up. They were snacking on small cups of nuts and raisins. Little Dog, who probably needed a nap but was refusing to admit this, was being a bit of a grouch. He was disassembling the monster sized hot wheels track Big Dog was playing with and trying to put nuts into the motorized car shooty part instead of hot wheels cars. (Which doesn't work by the way. It just jams snacks into the inner parts of the highly technical orange plastic casing that cannot be opened.) After being told to stop more than once, Little Dog discovered that his snack, while tasty and reasonably healthy, also made good ammunition to chuck at your mother. One warning and I scooped him up to put him in a time out.

I had just stood up, carry the weight of my squirming toddler when I realized I couldn't feel my legs. All of that cross-legged sitting had apparently cut off the blood supply and I was now precariously balanced on two useless limbs. Did that stop me from trying to take a step? Hell no! And that was the final straw, my legs went out from under me, I fell to the floor dropping Little Dog and whacking my boob on a nearby chair on the way down. Yes, my boob. See, I told you I was special in my ability to injure myself in new and intersting ways.

Little Dog only dropped the last few inches, but was seriously shaken up. He kept telling me that "Mommy hurt me!" making it sound as though I had intentionally cast his little body to the ground. I tried to correct him, but my voice seemed to be knocked out of my body by the savage blow to my breast. He recovered pretty quickly, and was back to causing mischief.

I on the other hand have a vicious looking bruise on my now fractured boob. It looks like Andre the Giant (rest his soul) gave me a hickey. Or that Kung Fu Panda took a few practice chops. In other words it looks huge and brutal. And it hurts.

You may wonder why I chose to post about this injury. Well, the simple truth of the matter is that Mr. Dog is not being duly sympathetic. I mean, every evening, and most mornings, I try to show him the ever changing rainbow colors of my maimed mammary, and at best, at best, I get a grin or a grunt. I'm feeling the need for some love. Want to tell me about your most ridiculous injury? Thanks. I need to know I'm not in this alone.


Sarah said...

Heavens, we've gotten to the point that flashing boobs at our husbands is greeted with indifference? When I was still nursing Finn, which came directly after weaning Violet, Conor said to me "I never thought I'd say this, but I think I've seen enough boob to last a lifetime."

Sorry about your broken boob, your artistic areola, your...i don't know k.o.'d knocker? I have sympathy for you.

Maura said...

Wow, that's an injury NOT to emulate!

I'm sorry about the indifference you're receiving for your pain (and colorfulness) and have to wonder if it's because he thinks he'd get in trouble if he offered to kiss it and make it better?! ;-)

My dumbest injury was when I fell and broke two fingers on my right hand -- fingers that aren't next to each other.

Robin said...

Yeouch! That's a doozy alright. Here, have some tea and sympathy. Nope, make that a margarita instead. Works better ;-).

My most embarrassing injury was years ago when I wrecked my knee trying to ski fast enough to catch a (very cute) guy who never even knew I was alive, since I crashed miles behind him. Worse, I then had to go back home and explain my wreck to my ski instructor boyfriend!

PS Meme will be up later tonight your time :-).

Anonymous said...

Dude...OWWWW! Feel better!!

Umm I have many because I am a total klutz, but once I steped on a rake (on purpose to be funny) and as I went to catch the handle with my hands I missed and gave myself a bloody nose. Oh and this other time I dropped a 6' folding table on my big toe and broke it, then this other time I pulled a music stand into my face and had to get 5 stitches...I could go on for days...

Anonymous said...

Oh WAIT I forget the best one! I was skiing and I was getting off the chair lift and my coat got caught and I fell off of it but since my coat was caught I was hanging by it and the lift operator couldn't stop it until it had gone about 15 feet. Then I had to be taken down the hill on one of those backboards behind the hot rescue guy so they could x-ray my head since I blacked out. Yep I am awesome.

Feel better now?

Anonymous said...

Things I never thought I would say to someone I have never met: "I hope your boob feels better!" :)

My dumbest injury was in 1st grade I believe. I fell off the toliet and cracked my head open on the side of the counter. The best part about it was they used cocoaine as a topical anesthetic.

BoneFolder said...

I would fly to the northern office just to sign that cast. I hope Mr. Dog realizes that he may be on the hook to re-fracture it and set it properly.

As it happens, I have punctured my man-boob once or twice. Our driveway is a bit cramped, and when I stand between our cars to access the driver's side of mine, I occasionally maneuver around the car door a little too closely, the acutely-angled corner of which is at precisely nipple-height on me. I have done this more often than I care to admit, though I've only drawn blood a couple of times. But it's piercingly humiliating for a guy like me. (There, if that doesn't make you feel better, I'm going to be mighty embarrassed.)

My most idiotic injury, though, was caused my my misconception of how light on my feet I am. In order to entertain my then-3-year-old daughter, I decided to flit from one room to the next by jumping over the chair blocking the doorway. The chair with wheels. And yes, I allowed one foot to "brush" it as I went over.

Naturally, it shot through the door ahead of me like a skateboard, popping me up at an unexpected trajectory which slammed my forehead into the top of the jamb so violently that the rest of my body flipped horizontal, and I landed with a resonant WHUMP on the kitchen floor.

It's hard to sternly advise your daughter about what is and what is not panty-pissingly funny when you've knocked the wind out of yourself and are blinded by the fireworks going off in your head.


Astrogirl426 said...

Ooooh, ouch - I'm feeling sympathy pains for both you and Mike (and yes, it takes a big man to utter/type the phrase, "I have punctured my man-boob").

Funny, Bunker hubs would offer every five minutes to help massage those aches and pains out, if I hurt myself like that. I'm thinking Big Dog needs to maybe go without boob benefits for a few weeks and we'll see if he changes his tune (that's right, I said it). Men!

Z said...

I've got sympathy. Because I have a story to top that (on the pain scale, not on the ineresting-ways-to-get-injured scale)... Picture this: gymnastics. uneven bars. practicing a move that sends you sailing from the high bar to the low bar, over the low one, facing down. Missing your grip completely, and so rather than catching the bar with your hands, you smack down directly on your itty bitty teenage boobs. Which promptly swell up to become not so itty-bitty for a little while, but also incredibly painful.
So yes, sympathy. I have it.

Mrs. F said...

OMG, that sounds horrible.

My most recent horrible injury was when I fell getting into the shower. I still have remnants of a bruise and that was over a month ago...

Shoshanah said...

sorry about your boob! i agree -- withold the boob from mr. dog!

oh, i have so many stupid self-injuries.

i fractured my pelvic bone while waterskiing. i wiped out. guess where the ski whacked me?

and there was the skiing incident when i was 15. i fretted about not shaving my legs that day, but decided to skip it since nobody was going to see them anyway. wrong! last run of the day -- windy and icy -- hit a mogul, went down and a did a 360 with one ski tip placed firmly into the snow, knee went "snap, crackle, pop". this happened right under the ski lift. everyone was laughing at me. and yes, i had to go down the hill strapped to one of those boards, and then had my pants cut off of me. by cute males. ugh! at least i think my undies were clean.

and then there was the time i sprained my neck in gym. my gymnastics partner dropped me. on my head. and the time i fell out of the shower and broke some toes. and fell out of my house (compleely sober, on the way to'll notice i have a problem with staying on my feet).

and the time, three days before my wedding, where i fell into the street and rolled into traffic (i didn't get hit, but nobody stopped, either), which resulted in much bruising and scabs for my wedding, which caused me to barely be able to move around, and for the scabs to constantly catch on the netting of my dress.

i've slipped twice in stores, both resulting in knee surgery (yes, the same knee as the skiing incident)...

need i go on?

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