I am planning to send my Chocolates on My Pillow manuscript off to my two Beta-Readers – the same two who helped me out with Chocolates in the Ocean. This should have happened Wednesday, but an unscheduled trip to the Emergency Room got in the way. As I used to say to my son when he was younger and doing something nuts, ‘Stop that. Days that end in the Emergency Rooms aren’t fun!’
What did I do? Dropped a bed on my foot.
Part of a bed. But an iron bed so … yeah … idiot.
There was blinding stab of pain, the feeling that I wanted to pass out and then a wave of nausea. I looked at my foot and said to my son, ‘That’s weird. I can’t bend my big toe.’ That was followed by a call to the Emergency Room with the rather silly question, ‘How do you know if your toe is broken?’ Three minutes of conversation ended with a trip across town for an x-ray.
The doctor who came in afterwards said to me, ‘Now, the x-ray people say your big toe is broken. I don’t agree with them, I think it’s just a damaged tendon. But I can see where they’re coming from. And the treatment is the same, so let’s just call it broken.’
First time I’ve ever broken anything and it wasn’t even really done. Like the time I thought my son broke my nose, but that’s another story.
I must be getting old because that doctor looked so young to me. Far too young to be a doctor. But I figured thinking that was probably
b) ageist (i.e. making me sound old)
so what actually ran through my mind was, ‘Aren’t you a little short for a Storm Trooper?’
I know I’ve been procrastinating about sending it off but come on!
There really is a limit.