Paksworld

Yesterday I  did myself an injury.   Tripped and went down hard, bled  all over a sidewalk, and spent hours in an ER  before I was finally sent home with a goodly number of stitches in my face and a bunch of related bruises, scrapes and cuts.  My only pair of bifocals was pretty much destroyed so I’m having to type w/o being able to see the screen clearly.  Renewed awareness of how much misery you can feel when not actuallly badly hurt.  And how lucky you can be when a bloody mess of a face does not involve any broken bones, lost teeth, damage to eyes, ears, mobility, etc.   Functually, stuff is working.  Yeah, I’m stiff, sore, and the worst parts of the face hurt some, but ye gods it could have been worse.  It will be ouchy for some days, we hope the stitches stay put for ten days, and  so on, but once I was stitched back together, the worst is the effect on those who see it.  I look like someone who was punched hard and more than once in the face (due to managing to hit most of my face in one fall.  The nose is a particular gruesome vision.

The only picture I have (the hospital took more, before the stitching, to plan the reconstruction)  is on my phone and I don’t know how to get itt from there to, say, a horror to show my friends.  Saves them wincing, as long as they don’t come visit.   As with all things that happen to writers, it’s *material*…at some point, details will show up in something I write.  Wonderful husband made me pudding (soft  custard) to eat last nigit annd today since I’m not supposed to chew anything firm for some days lest I dislodge a stitch beforetime.  Now I’m going to try soft scrambled eggs…without being able to see when they’re done.

There’s a move in sword & buckler fighting known as “giving him mustachios with the buckler”  and I can now say I have a clue what that feels like.  A pebbled concrete sidewalk makes a good “buckler.”