Legends of the Fall

Sunday morning when I woke up about 11:30, I took an inventory of my injuries.

1. A gash on my right middle finger
2. A scrape on the inside of my right forearm
3. A bruise on the inside of my left forearm
4. A small bruise on my left wrist
5. A sore left middle finger
6. Assorted bruises and aches on my legs
7. A terrible scrape and painful bruise on my left ribs

While being in a car accident or a fight would have been glamourous, sadly it wasn't the truth. I fell. Down stairs. In a crowded gay bar. Surrounded by judging people.

As the Artist tells it, one second I was standing at the top of the stairs. The next I was a crumpled heap at the bottom. And it wasn't even as if I tried to fall gracefully. It was end over end, bouncing down the steps like a ball in a pinball machine. And isn't it funny when something like that happens? Your first thought isn't "ohmygod, did I break anything?" It's "ohmygod, did anyone see me?"

Unfortunately, people saw me.

Just for the record, that was the second time I had tripped/fallen down stairs in the last week. The other time was in a the middle of a crowded lecture hall, where I was delivering a presentation to pharmacy students. Although I didn't hit the floor, I did make a good stumble and fell out of my shoes.

And this is the third time I fell down stairs in the last four months. Those damn stairs at The Dynamic Duo's are steep and treacherous, especially when wet and icy.

I'm changing my name to "Grace."