As I type very slowly with one hand, I desperately miss the use of my left hand. After a week of talking it up and recruiting our pals MALEX (aka Matt and Alex Weaver) to go skating with us along with my sister Carla and her 2 kiddos, Hannah and Ethan, I dominated the rink with some sweet dance/skate moves for about an hour. I was determined to be the aunt who taught my niece and nephew to rock the wheels like I did back in the day at Bud's roller rink (you saline county folks know what I'm talking about). It wasn't until the bounce of overplayed rap music about "ipods stuck on replay" subsided into 80's power ballads that, thanks to my sister, I know all of the words to and hold so much appreciation for that I just had to serenade her with Journey's moving track "Faithfully." Little did I know, but I would sadly be associating Steve Perry's angelic voice with sheer pain and agony for the rest of my life. As a stepped backwards off the platform of carpet onto the slippery hardwoods at Starlight Skatium my sweet action speedskates failed me and slipped right out from under me. As I looked my niece Hannah in the eyes, I fell to the ground looking like a baby giraffe walking for the first time (kinda like Ryan Mallet attempting to run up the field when he can't find an open receiver, just sad) and busted my tail on the hard floor. All of my body except for one important part made it to the floor. My wrist, having a mind of it's own, decided to abandon the rest of me and stop on the elevated carpet platform. At that very moment my husband skated right by looking at me in sheer terror, knowing that when I fall I tend to make an art form of it, and before even looking at my left hand I simply yelled at him "I just broke my arm." He didn't looked that convinced until we both looked down and saw this twisted, dinted, mangled excuse of a human's wrist with a motionless hand just dangling from it like a lifeless appendage (gross I know). My sister said it looked more like a pair of pantyhose with a ball inside of it just dangling back and forth in the wind. It was then that I started seeing stars like a character on the Looney Toons and Matt Weaver caught me just before I hit the floor again, except this time with my eyes rolling in the back of my head. All I could hear were people arguing over whether or not I should lay down or sit up. After losing a few non-precious moments of my life and finding Alex Weaver's lap to be more like a sealy posturepedic , I awoke to Matt Weaver slapping my face, something I know he has always wanted to do (still unknown is why Weaver is walking with a limp after these events). Without control, I tossed my Jose's from about two hours before, splashing some on Malex, my bad. It was then that my knight in shining armor showed up at the back door with the carriage awaiting to take me to the ER. It was at the ER that I endured grueling x-rays and wonderful conscious sedation while my bones were popped back into place. I found out that my roller skating escapades may lead to surgery and definately to a poolside vacay with a nice little cast. That's what happens when you rotate a bone 60 degrees out of place...won't let it stop me from a shopping day with the girls, percocet in hand!
me, bogging now...
