Sometimes life throws so much shit my way, I just want to drop to the ground and give up. The past month or so hasn't exactly been what I would consider pleasant. A while back, my car got rear-ended. It's okay, the other guy's insurance covered everything, including the rental car.

On the Monday prior to this one, I was out riding my bike in the city. The street I was traveling on was becoming busy, so I tried to make it onto the sidewalk. My wheel became caught between the road and the edge of a driveway, and I took a trop over the handlebars of my bike.

The next thing I knew, my arm felt horribly twisted. I was in an incredible amount of pain. I stood up, grasping my arm because it felt like it would snap back in a weird position... I could barely move, my knee was in bad shape as well. I stood there, surprised, and just said "oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck..."

Some guy in a Subaru saw me wipe out and turned his car around. He parked in front of the scuba store that I had become street pizza in front of. He asked if I was alright... I looked like I was in a lot of pain. I think I muttered that I felt pretty messed up from the nasty fall I from my bike. The guy offered to take me to the hospital. I couldn't let go of my arm long enough to grab my cell phone to call anybody, so I gladly accepted his offer.

On the drive to St. Mark's, I told the guy that I had never wiped out that badly on my bike before. My arm felt twisted, so I was hoping for a sprained muscle. I must have thanked him four times for picking me up. I asked for his contact info so I could take him out to dinner sometime to thank him, but he explained that he just hoped that someday in the future someone would help him if he ever got hurt.

So, I was dropped off at the ER. I managed to call Jeremy to ask him to pick up my bike from the guy who brought me to the hospital and drive me home after I was done getting fixed up. I checked in, and someone set me in one of the treatment areas of the ER. If you ever read this, Nate Wade Subaru guy, you have my sincere gratitude.

I must have waited in that chair for an eternity. The adrenaline and endorphins were quickly subsiding, leaving only excruciating pain behind. Someone stopped by from time to time to check up on me. I was slipping into shock; I was denied water or pain killers until I had some x-rays taken. Since I had just been on my workout, I was completely parched. What a nice combination, being thirsty and in the worst pain of my life. I did my best to concentrate on my surroundings to block out the pain, but I kept on losing. Slowly, I began to slip away... then the x-ray tech retrieved me.

Trying to keep one's body perfectly still, in x-ray friendly positions, and being told to hold while you're in shock and being shot with radiation proved to be an exceptionally difficult task, I don't know how I managed. I joked around with the guy for a while, he took some images, then left the room to scan them.

I felt this weird pop in my arm, then most of the pain washed away. I felt much, much better. "You wouldn't believe this, Doc, but when you left the room, my arm popped... I feel better now."

He blinked, "Did you just call me Doc?"

I laughed, "Yeah, seriously though, I think my arm just popped back into place." He left to take another set of x-rays.

"Damn, you're tough, your arm was out of its socket for a while and you didn't even cry."

"Is there anything more painful than what I just went through?" I asked.

"I've heard that the only thing that's worse than a dislocated shoulder is passing a kidney stone."

"Wow, at least this puts any other pain in my life into perspective."

Eventually, my friend Jeremy took me home. I was more or less in one piece, now equipped with a sling, a prescription for Vicoprofen, and a shattered ego. It seemed like someone had shattered my life apart... no matter what I did, everything always fell apart. I ate, then took a good look at myself in the mirror. I was a wreck. Before bed, I logged on, and an acquaintance sent me a message out of the blue... "you're fat, you're ugly, and you whine a lot." I told him to go fuck himself, then logged off. For the first time in many years, I cried...

Between then and now, I learned a few things.

- It is very hard to do anything with one arm, especially trying to tie your shoes.

- I have some very good friends, thanks Jeremy and Beth.

- Vicoprofen is not your friend. Sure, it takes the pain completely away and it makes me feel like I've had three beers (and the effects last for 2-3 hours), but I built up a tolerance pretty quickly, and it made my already-bad mood swings a lot worse.

- It's hard to type with one hand on an ergonomic keyboard.

When I returned to work on the following Wednesday, everyone asked me what had happened. It was tempting to make up a random story for each new person that asked. One of my coworkers fractured her ankle that same Monday. Bad luck is apparently contagious...

Last Saturday, Jeremy and I were (once-again) beating Halo at his place. Beth had just returned from some fabric shopping, and she asked us to come upstairs. She sprained her ankle earlier in the day. Her leg was up on a chair; Jeremy was off in the kitchen getting her some water and ibuprofen.

She said "I think I'm going to pass out..."

"Huh? Are you alri..."

Beth fell back in her chair and started convulsing. Life has a funny sense of humor, putting the guy in the sling in the position of trying to catch a fainting girl.

I tried to pick her up... "Jeremy, you had better get in here now. Beth just passed out!" Some of this is a little hazy now (forgive me, this was very stressful). Beth came to and requested that we help her to the couch in the living room (from her study). We made it to the hallway, then she passed out again. Jeremy sat her down in the hall and called 911.

While Jeremy was on the phone, I stayed in the hall with her. Beth was white as a ghost, barely coherent. "How are you feeling? Stay with me here." The 5-10 minutes before the paramedics arrived were the scariest that I've been through. The thought did occur to me that I might lose my friend. Her hand was clammy, she was pale as hell, and it looked like she was slipping away.

An ambulance and fire truck arrived. The paramedics ran some tests, put her on oxygen, asked some questions, then carted her off to the hospital. Once again, I returned to St. Marks. Hell, I never thought I'd be in the ER twice in the same week. I waited in the ER with Jeremy. He went back to be with Beth, and came out for the occasional status update. About two hours later he reported... chipped bone in her foot, she'll be alright.

Beth had been driving me to work while I was too drugged up on vicadin to legally operate a car. Starting out last Tuesday, I got to return the favor. We sure looked funny walking into the office together: She was in crutches and a splint, I was in a sling. The gimp disease was sure spreading.

I am now out of the sling and no longer in need of pain killers. Beth is now in a support shoe and only in need of one crutch. Boy, was I happy to get out of the sling (medieval torture device). It felt so good to type and drive with two hands again.

I will emerge from this mess a stronger person. I hit rock bottom and emerged from the abyss. I survived, I'll get back on the bike when I'm healed and hurt myself again. :) Life throws all sorts of crap at you, and if you survive and learn from these experiences, you'll be better-prepared for the future and more able to enjoy the time you spend on this planet. Things are looking up.

Note: Sorry about any errors that may be in here. Windows hates me and my word process doesn't want to work.

robert@digitalsingularity.com