So on Saturday I had my first day off in a considerably extended period of time.
So how, do you assume, I spent my relaxing day off?
Going on a wondrous adventure with my boyfriend?
Shopping with my girl mates and having a right old laugh?
Chilling in front of Netflix in my PJs with a steaming cup of luxury hot chocolate?
I figured a nice way to spend my day off would be at the MIU of my local hospital.
For those with less hospital experience, that's the minor injuries unit.
How, you might ask, did I end up in said predicament?
I flew down my cellar steps like the second coming of Lucifer.
Yes. I swear on my life. That's what happened.
I thought, "Well hey, what's the point in going all the way upstairs to get my own shoes when I can just slip my dad's on quickly for nipping down the cellar!"
That thought process, while having occurred and in fact succeeded on multiple occasions, in this instance, was nothing short of insanity.
I got to the second step down and I'm fairly certain I must have slipped.
I'm not entirely certain because I don't really remember what happened up to That Fucking Moment.
That Fucking Moment where you realise.... you fucked up.
You fucked up BIG TIME!
So I sort of became concious that I was falling and that immediate doom was inevitable a few milliseconds before my back collided with the brick step with an incredible force.
Did it stop there?
No it did not.
In the true style of the pull of gravity, I continued my downstairs descent with a "DONK DONK DONK DONK DONK"
The whole "DONK" thing?
Yeah. That was the sound of my spine hitting brick. Somewhere amongst that was also my right elbow hitting brick.
There was basically a lot of me hitting brick.
After I'd stopped donking down the steps, I omitted such a noise that my sister described as a "hurty whale" and led my brother to the belief that a dog had somehow got in to the cellar.
Flattered, as you can imagine.
Anyway, I finally managed to move, found myself unable to move my elbow, laugh, cough or sit down.
So I ended up waiting in the hospital for a considerable amount of time, being told it was ligament and muscle damage in my arm, and told that the muscles in my back, had once again, torn.
Having recently been diagnosed with hypermobility syndrome, this didn't really come as much of a shock.
What was rather shocking though was having to pee in a paper dish and walk out of the toilet, rather skeptical that the thing was going to even hold, and hand it to the nurse looking after me while trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible.
Yep. Had to have my pee checked for blood to make sure my kidneys hadn't taken too much of a bashing. Awkward much.
Anyway, I was sent home with a sling and a considerable dent in my pride.