They Call Me "Grace"

You don't realize just how much your ribs are tied in to your range of motion...that is, until you crack them.

I actually did it on Tuesday. I was walking the dog. It was a beautiful morning. I looked up to admire a Red Maple and WHAM! STUMBLE, STUMBLE...SLIIIIIDE! And I was on the ground, half on the sidewalk, half in the mud.

My first thought? "God I hope no one saw me!" I jumped up, brushed the mud from my right hand while looking around - it was 6:00 in the morning, no one was awake enough to see the foolish, klutzy girl spread-eagle on her stomach. My left hand was scraped and bleeding, my left knee was raw, bloody and burning like there was no tomorrow.

Apparently I hit the ground hard enough that I also cracked my ribs on the left side. Seriously, I have no idea how I did it. The sidewalk was level, clean...maybe I am just a klutz!

I've still been going to work, but bending over to get things, turning certain ways, reaching over my head...it's all very bad! And not taking it easy, giving the ribs a chance to heal...well it's really catching up with me today.

Don't you hate it when you have a million things planned for the weekend, things that require your full range of motion and you have to scrap those plans? Maybe it's the Universe's way of saying, "Slow down!"

Here's to conceding to the ribs and doing things that don't require much movement.

Dianthus in the rain:

Oh, and panies, too.

Enjoy your weekend, everyone!