I took a tumble in the dark  Tuesday night and spent the night in the hospital.  It seems they were concerned that I had broken my neck and wanted to keep me immobile until they could process tests.  While I messed up my skull pretty badly from a head-first dive, it was the immobility and the hospital’s refusal to give me anything to drink that was ultimately unbearable.  Pure torture.  Fortunately, my daughter’s boyfriend, along with my daughter who drove me to the hospital, snuck me a soaking washrag that I could suck on: washrag water never tasted so good.

Good news: I didn’t break anything.  Bad news: I look like a western hostage in Iraq that militants tried to behead but, in their pure stupidity, hacked in the wrong place.  Well, you motherfucking headwhackers aren’t going to get another chance: my head’s still on, and curiously enough, I think my thinking now is even clearer, my cogitation more cogent than before.  In fact, since the fall, my vocabulary (outside the ER room where they had to close the door on me to protect children-patients from my curse-laden protesting rants) has become biggie-enhanced! Heh, using the word ‘fortuitous’ now seems plebeian to me. 

I decided to take the rest of the week off (though I went into the office late last night for a special project that my boss, this morning, informed me was “excellent work”) to spare my colleagues their incredulous looks and their total loss of appetite for lunch.  I’ll spare all of you, too, pics of myself (at least the left side of my head) since I don’t want any casual drive-by blogger to complain to the xangods that I’ve violated Terms of Service for offensive material.   Unless…

 If someone wants to donate at least $25 to frejaluna’s  broken camera fund, I’ll post a currently-snatched Hellraiser photo of myself here.  (She’ll have to confirm the donation, first, however!)  Come on...at least one of you wants to see me brutally gruesome.