Say No To Drugs

About 4 weeks ago, I had surgery to repair my shoulder. The original injury happened just two weeks before the Las Vegas Marathon. I had been diagnosed with bronchitis and was given cough syrup. This cough syrup evidently has a bit of a reputation...kind of like that girl you went to high school with that wore black leather pants, see through shirts to reveal (gasp!) her lacey black bra and thick black eyeliner that was overshadowed only by her 2 foot bangs that had been teased high enough to make all of Dallas TX swoon. This stuff was ROUGH.

My bedroom is located in the basement of our house. Ever since graduating from college I've had an aversion to sleeping while the sun is up. So my solution was to move to a dimly lit basement room with blackout shades. Work ethic and sense of responsibility be damned...I WILL sleep during waking hours whenever possible.

One of the purposes of the Syzurp is to dry you out and some of the other purposes were evident in the next couple of hours. Well in the middle of the night I was thirsty and though I never do it any other time, I was sleeping with socks on because I was feverish. I went upstairs, grabbed some water in my Purple Drank haze and headed back downstairs to bed. Once I hit step #2, I started skidding down the stairs like a 4 year old on their first pair of roller skates. In the split second it took me to slip off the first step, I realized that I was INEBRIATED! I was not coughing and my throat felt a little better than most of the recent past; but I also was not balanced and quick enough to reach out and grab the walls or handrail for support. Instead I landed straight on my - at that moment in time - toned and awesome-looking butt; but not before I bounced off the wall on my right ready-for-tank-season shoulder. I bounced down the stairs and ended up at the bottom with the wind knocked out of me.

I struggled to catch my breath and faintly heard a low growl from my bedroom that was 15 feet in front of me. Paulie heard the loud ruckus and emitted a weak warning to not disturb him before most likely taking my still-warm spot in the bed. I tried to get up but quickly realized that I was going nowhere on my own two feet. I tried yelling for hubby who was sleeping peacefully (read: without hearing aids in) on the upstairs floor. Trying to wake him would be nearly impossible. I crawled on my hands and knees to my bed where my phone was charging. I called hubby a couple of times before he woke up and said breathlessly "I fell down the stairs". I heard more socked feet running down the hallway and had I caught my breath yet I would have warned him not to take the stairs in socks. Instead I started giggling.

Hubby came into the room, bleary eyed and hard of hearing asking me if I was ok. A large bruise had already started forming on my butt cheek and running up the side of hip. He saw me giggling and sighed..."do you need ice?".  "No," I said, "just help me lay back down." And other than some soreness and embarrasment I was fine.