So we have this camping chair at our place off the grid. It is the most fabulous chair ever invented. It’s got a wide base for mine and Mark’s wide base. The arms are INSULATED! You unzip it, fill it with ice, zip it up, put your drink in the cup holder and your drink STAYS COLD! There’s enough room in the arm of the chair to store an extra couple of drinks. Genius!
Throughout the course of the day, whenever one of us would vacate the chair, the other of us would jump into the empty spot. It became a joke – me and Mark fighting for a spot in our favorite chair. Before you ask why we don’t just buy another one, it’s because we can’t FIND another one! When we bought this, we had no idea how awesome it was going to be.
Hanging around the fire pit visiting.
Me. Mark. Michelle. Cory. Our guests. Good times were had by all. Until the rain came. Just a sprinkle at first, but then larger drops. Mark announced, “To the Waterfall Room!” The Waterfall Room is where my favorite chair is. I looked at Mark. I looked towards the Waterfall Room. NOBODY WAS GOING TO STEAL MY CHAIR.
Up the stairs I ran.
Across the wee little yard. Short cut up and over the deck railing. The deck railing that I’ve hurdled before.
It’s hard to tell why it went wrong. Age. Weight. Speed. Mud. Sprinkling rain. Who knows? All I know is that it went wrong.
I led with my left foot as I usually do when I jump things. Because you know me, I’m always jumping things.
::Lowers head and whispers::
My toe clipped the edge of the railing, but my body did not stop its forward progress and I sailed quite spectacularly over the rail. Like Superman! Yeh, that’s it! Graceful like Superman. The flying, that is. The flying was graceful like Superman. The landing? Oh, not so much!
In a split second I found myself on my chest on the deck. Arms forward. Feet flopping. Wind completely knocked out of me. All I could hear was Michelle’s voice and she sounded concerned. “Oh my god, Mom, are you OK?”
Must not let the child see the mother die.
I should have laid there for a moment to catch my breath, but I couldn’t have Michelle worry, so I hopped up, “Yup! I’m fine. I’m OK.” She was not convinced. I wasn’t quite convinced, if I’m being honest. I walked (not limping) into the Waterfall Room and announced, “God dammit, that hurt like a motherfucker! Where’s some Aleve?” I sat down in my favorite camping chair and propped my leg up on a little stool. Melissa tossed me the bottle of Aleve. Michelle grabbed a bag of frozen broccoli (closest cold thing). And I sat there wondering what on earth had just happened.
As we went through the slo-mo playing in our brains, the best that I can figure out is this sequence:
Mostly, though, the impact was handled by my chest. Full on chest compression. If I were really brave, I’d show you my bruised boob. Thank god for built in air bags or I think I’d have broken some ribs. As it is, to put any sort of pressure on my rib cage right under my boobs causes me to cringe a bit. They feel bruised, but there is no visible bruising.
Mark walked into the Waterfall Room as I was sitting there with a bag of frozen broccoli on my leg and said, “What on earth were you thinking?” I said, “I was thinking I was going to sit in my god damned camping chair!
And then we all burst out laughing!
He shook his head and turned to leave the room. “Well, I hope it was worth it.”