Then, I woke up on Monday the 25th. My flu was back for Round #2, and it tried to kill me. My fever spiked at 103. I couldn't hold down water. Every part of me ached, and I could do nothing but lie in bed and crawl to the bathroom. When I saw the doctor, he said I was badly dehydrated and had the flu. Joy! I WONDERED why I felt sick! That was money well spent . . .
(OK, I know it's not my doctor's fault he couldn't do anything for me, and, really, I'm just glad it wasn't as serious as I was worried it was. I thought I was going to die!)
On another matter, I have to explain an injury that happened quite some time ago. sleepyjane got curious as to how I damaged my knee enough to still feel the pain when the weather gets cold. It's my fault she got curious. I was empathizing with her clumsiness and mentioned I'd once damaged my knee severely in a "clumsy incident," and, now, she asks how that happened . . .
OK . . . let's go back in time . . . I'm nineteen, and it's a lovely summer day in 1992 (yes, I'm old, shut up!). My friend is showing off his new motorcycle. After I ride on the back for a few minutes, he stops and says, "You want to drive it up and down the alley a few times?" You'd think I would say, "No," or wonder why my friend would offer. The fact is, when I was in my early teens, my cousin collected dirt bikes and I used to drive them all the time through the corn fields of middle-Illinois. My friend knew this, and to both of us driving a motorcycle up and down an alleyway a few times seemed simple and harmless.
Well, it wasn't. The most embarrassing thing is that I never did drive the motorcycle. You see, the accident happened when I was getting ON the motorcycle . . .
I swung my right leg up, and my left foot slipped. My left knee buckled, and I fell, dropping the motorcycle onto my left knee. All several-hundred pounds of motorcycle fell on my knee, and my knee was in a very bad position to begin with. You see, I twisted my leg so thoroughly that my heel was touching my hip.
It hurt. Oh, my, yes, it hurt. So, I did the only thing that made any sense: I claimed I'd "walk it off," and hobbled around for the next few hours until I couldn't, my knee was the size of a grapefruit and would not bend. So, I hopped to his car and said I needed to go home to rest up my knee.
When I got home, I argued with my parents about whether or not I needed to go to the emergency room. Fortunately, I lost and it was off to the emergency room for me . . .
Well, my kneecap was smashed, and nowhere near my knee. I'd torn ligaments. They removed my kneecap and replaced it with pleasant plastic. They sewed up my ligaments. My knee is nothing but scar tissue and man-made materials.
So, be careful with motorcycles, kats and kittens, and otherwise have a peaceful existence. :)