I HAD a small, cheapo office chair that was given to me (and I was grateful, truly). It was half the size of my fat bottom and cushioned with what felt like about 1/4 in of Soviet era TP.
I was never very comfortable, but I managed. I have important work to do at my computer- reading emails, entering giveaways, tending my farm (God help me!) About 3 weeks ago, my chair decided to collapse under my prodigious girth and it now sits 8 inches off the floor and it is relegated to the kid's play room.
Now, I have to sit in one of my fancy dinette chairs:
Note the quality cushion, made from an old mattress protector and pillow sham.
This lovely piece of crud tried to kill me last night, well, in a conspiracy plot with my youngest child, her brother and about 100 DVD's.
Last night, in that lull after dinner, but before baths and bed, the kids were playing in the front yard while I worked diligently (perused Cracked.com) on my computer.
Suddenly the peace is shattered when my son comes barreling through the door, babbling incoherently. He slams and locks the door behind him and screams, "They are gonna try to lie on me!!"
He then tries to tell me something about getting bitten and details of the latest brawl between him and my youngest while I bellow at him to unlock and open the door, because the girls are now banging on it and ringing the bell furiously. I was one wife-beater away from being featured on COPS.
I am still perched daintily on my quality chair as he opens the door and my youngest bursts in and goes right for his jugular like a lion on a gazelle. I jump up to intervene and catch the toe of one of my bedroom slippers on the leg of my chair.
With my cat-like grace and reflexes, I stumble and flop and would have righted myself except for the trap in the middle of the floor left by the lion (youngest daughter).
Before dinner, she had taken every DVD off the shelf looking for Iron Man and they were strewn all over the floor. I insisted she pick them up and she kept putting it off, but being the easy-going schmuck that I am, I thought I would just make her do it when she came in from playing...if I lived that long.
Mid-flail, bent at the waist, feet flopping in the search for balance, I step on one DVD case after another. It was like a cartoon- they kept whipping from under my feet as I continued at great speed and peril across my living room.
About .0001 seconds before impact, it flashed through my mind 'Oh, this will NOT end well!'
Lucky for me, I could have merely fallen in a heap and banged my knees and palms and been a little sore, but the strangely rigid foot rest on the (total piece of crap, much repaired, stink-foot-smell-laden) recliner caught me- slam in the freakin face and head!! It was like a truck hitting a wall. I still don't know how I didn't shatter my spine.
As I lay there, stars and birdies circling my head, my son is frantically asking if I am alright. Normally, I would lie, to spare them anxiety and myself an unnecessary interview with an EMT, but I WAS dazed. I whimper "No..." and he tears off like a shot to get my oldest daughter. It is worth noting, that I was sooooo injured, that I never once said a swear word during or immediately after my whole ordeal. Anyone that knows me, knows that even a paper cut gets an F-bomb, but I was so stunned that I couldn't remember to use my cuss words. Maybe I need a CAT scan...
Something weird happened when I hit my head, too (aside from the stunning flash of stars behind my eyes). It was like my sinuses instantly drained. It was gross and weird and must kind of be like acupressure if it was done with the force of a sledgehammer.
I managed to pick myself up off the floor about the same time my oldest came in. She asked if I was OK, I said 'no', she blanched and I said, 'but, I am not going to die'. This was enough reassurance for her, she went back out to play. I wonder how much blood she could have ignored?
I limped into the bathroom to assess the damage, which consists of the following:
a huge egg on my forehead and top of the head
smashed, crushed, jammed (or something) spine, especially in the cervical area
my formerly good shoulder (the left) now hurts like the deformed and ruined shoulder (right, ruined from carrying ungrateful and murderous children for too many years, but I wallow in self-pity...)
my wrists feel jammed
pinky nail on left hand ripped to the quick (that burns like a mother...)
broken veins in the tops of my feet (I wasn't sure about this injury last night, I just knew the top of my feet burned really bad and I was too chicken to take my socks off, for fear that all the skin would come off too) broken veins and bruises on the palm of my right hand (also extremely unpleasant)
bruised knees, with some sort of weird injury to my tendons or varicose veins- all I know is that the back or my right leg burns like fire and some sort of cordy thing feels snappy ( I know that doesn't make much sense, but imagine a rubber band in the back of your leg, and then imagine snapping it- there, that is what is happening)
Did I mention I have a giant egg on my forehead?!
As I sat on my crappy couch, with bed pillows for cushions, (because the stray cat, I tried to give shelter in a fit of misguided philanthropy, peed all over the regular cushions), ice pack on my head, I felt like weeping. Which made me angry and weepy, but I refused to cry. Not because I have great willpower or whatever people with character have. Nope, I thought, if I start to cry, in my weakened and damaged condition, I will never have the strength to make it off this hideous couch.
I popped a ton of motrin, but I still hurt like crazy. Either, I have shattered parts and the pills are relieving pain and I just don't know it, or I got a bottle of something else. If I experience penis enlargement, sudden weight loss or excessive hair growth, I WILL take photos.
I still don't know what happened between my kids outside that precipitated my head dive across the living room and I don't care- do THEY have a frigging giant lump on their forehead? I didn't think so.