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Mpls, MN, United States

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Incidents & Accidents

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Whiplash & Hiplash

What makes for better blog fodder than personal injury stories, especially ones that involve epic air? Not much, I say!

So yesterday evening, I'm taking out the trash, and when I get to the bottom of the back stairs, the neighbor's adorable black lab puppy (though she's really more of a burly, if exuberant, teenager these days) rushes me. As she has done this before, I am prepared for her, and wait for her to reach the end of her staked tether and calm down (as much as she can) before I pet her. I'm in the middle of my "Gentle, gentle, good dog"s when I hear someone say, "Hello!"

It's my other downstairs neighbor, to whom I refer as my Hermit Neighbor, as I've talked to him maybe twice since he moved in at the end of last summer. He's leaning on his back railing, enjoying the beautiful evening, and I laughingly explain that as Rose had mauled (really just muddied) me the last time I came out with the trash, I now try to take appropriate precautions. Rose wanders to the far corner of the yard as we talk about what a nice spring it's been and how it's fun to have a puppy around, especially since we don't have to actually take care of her.

As we're chatting, we notice the chubby orange tabby that's been hanging around the neighborhood recently (and has actually tried, on more than one occasion, to follow David or me into the apartment). The cat comes up to me, and my neighbor mentions how friendly she is. I, seeing the cat looking at Rose, maybe five yards away, am in the middle of remarking how fearless she is, when it all falls apart.

I don't know whether Rose or the cat bolts first, but suddenly they're both making a headlong dash for the far corner of the yard, Rose in hot pursuit of the tabby. Rose, however, as you might remember, is tethered to a stake in the middle of the yard, and the kitty makes an easy escape.

I, unfortunately, am standing between the stake and the dashing puppy.

I'm not sure precisely what happens next, except that Rose presumably clothelines herself as she reaches the end of her tether, and I am flying through the air, swept off my feet. Okay, I'm not sure how much I actually flew. I did land on my back, rather hard, but mercifully on the soft dirt of the lawn and not on the sidewalk behind me. I hear John shout, "Are you okay?" and as I'm slowly picking myself up, see that he's run to Rose and is calming her. I am a bit disoriented, quite shaken, and becoming sore all over, but manage to laugh and ask him if it looked epic. He assures me that I did get some impressive air.

I really wish I could have seen it, especially since I can't quite figure out how I acquired all my injuries: while the head-neck-shoulder pain is fairly intuitive from whiplash, and the scraped elbows/forearms were acquired upon landing, why do both of my hips hurt? Not, presumably, from the landing, as a slightly bruised bum indicates that I thankfully managed to land not only on the softest part of the yard, but on my own best-padded region. My current theory is "hiplash"--that my legs got flung like my head did! And my head did apparently get soundly flung; when I got up, my hair, which had been pinned up, was significantly dislodged (and my brain still hurts a little).

When David got home about 20 minutes later, I told him I thought I was probably concussed, and he said that if I started throwing up, he would drive me to the hospital. Some sympathy!

Thankfully, there was no vomiting, although today I'm even sorer than yesterday and have continued to pop ibuprofen. I mostly feel lucky, for things like being young and fit enough to take that sort of epic fall in stride, for not hitting the sidewalk, for having someone witness my sweet air, etc.

I do kind of wish the witnessing neighbor hadn't been the hermit-inclined one, though; this is the kind of story for which one wishes a gregarious collaborator for the retelling!


The Churches said...

Hiplash! Awesome! And I like David's cavalier treatment of your concussion and being, generally, broken all over. ...MEN!

Leah said...

Ha! Wish I could have seen it.

Maybe the hiplash (!!) is from your body's general freezing-up in its fight-or-flight rush of adrenaline. I've had similar things happen to me.

CëRïSë said...

Adrianna, "generally broken all over" is genius; I've reminded him that that's my condition! =)

And Leah, the adrenaline hypothesis is an excellent one. I bet you're right!

Ellen said...

I would have LOVED to have seen this.

Misty said...

Wow! That is quite a story. With all of lashing about of your entire body, perhaps a trip to the chiropractor is in order? He or she would love the story, too.

Ern said...

I wonder if you can get a coup/contrecoup type of injury in your hips like you can in your head?

Glad you're ok!


strovska said...

wow, that does sound truly epic. even the mental image was dramatic.

and why is that male companions don't seem to take one's injuries seriously unless blood or vomiting is involved?

CëRïSë said...

Ellen, I wish you'd seen it, too; I'm sure you'd tell the story better than I do!

Misty, I've been going on Fridays to get my foot worked on; I'd been adjusted just that morning! I'll have them fix me again when I go next Friday.

Erin, another tempting theory! It makes sense that there might sort of been an in-and-out tug on those joints in the flinging.

And Rachel, thanks! My poor male companion has had to make up for not taking me seriously by enduring excessive amounts of moaning.

dad said...

Well done writer, it fairly sparkles

Ellen said...

I have to leave another comment for the captcha.

an indian festival?

CëRïSë said...

Thanks, Dad!

And Ellen, I think Daniel might be rubbing off on you!