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Yes: I fell out of bed and landed, unsurprisingly, on the floor. Go ahead: laugh. B*****ds ... ;^)
Now, let me elaborate ...
As some of you already know I am physically disabled: I have muscular dystrophy. This basically means that my muscles have - and still are - wasted away and are very small; an average male adult can grip my upper arm and his thumb and middle finger will touch. My legs are only good for resting a coffee cup on and showing off my tattoos in the summer. And when I'm lay down, the only thing I can lift up is my arm, and even then only 3 or 4 inches up.
I was lay in bed. I looked at my mobile to see what time it was - 10.37am - and decided I should get up. Getting up involves shuffling into position and then letting my legs slide off the side of the bed so I can use them as a kind of counter balance to sit myself up. Unfortunately at some point - I can't remember exactly when - I slipped and plummeted onto the floor. This was bad for several reasons, two of which were that there was zero chance of me being able to get up on my own and the fact that I seemed to be in a certain amount of pain.
The lower half of my body was "face down" but my back was twisted and the upper half of me had slid sideways between the bed and the bedside table. After about 2 or 3 seconds I realised that I couldn't breath - my neck was also twisted so that while my left shoulder was touching the ground and my right shoulder was vertically above it, my head was turned as far to the right - I was looking upwards - as it could go and my windpipe was pressed against the bed, stopping my airflow. For a few seconds I tried to take some gulps of air and only managed to expel what was already in my lungs. Panic set up and I tried as hard as I could to turn my head - I couldn't. Now, real fear set in - this was about 10 seconds after landing - and so I tensed everything I could and pushed back on the bedside table, allowing me to turn my head to my left - i.e. downwards - which released the pressure on my windpipe and allowed me to breathe. Phew. Big phew. My heart was racing somewhat.
So, after breathing rather deeply for a few minutes, I assessed my situation: I was stuck, well and truly; I couldn't reach my mobile, which was on the bed above me; I couldn't reach my house phone, which was on the bedside table; I couldn't reach my alarm cord, which was resting on the headboard; and, worst of all, I couldn't shout for help because I was face down with my head between the bed and the bedside table so no one would hear me ... and the missus was at her mum's house.
I was hurting - my left arm was bent underneath me and was slowly going numb; my right arm was bent between me and the bed and was also slowly going numb; my left leg was resting on the charger for my motorised chair - this is a small box, about 6 x 6 x 4 inches made of metal with sharp edges. As my lower half was effectively face down and this charger was under my left thigh, the lower part of my left left was pointing slightly upwards with all it's weight on my thigh at the point where it was pressed on the box ... and this was hurting, a lot. My right leg was fine.
I tried to move and only succeeded in causing more pain to everything that was already hurting. I was well and truly trapped. I could only think of one thing to do, so I did it: I screamed.
Not a lot happened after that; I could her people walking past the house, but no-one heard me shouting. Everything went numb after a while apart from my left leg and, rather unfortunately, I wet myself. I'd needed the loo as I was getting up and because of the numbness I has no idea I'd done it until after I'd been rescued.
This came sometime later I heard a key in the door - the missus had returned. I started shouting for all my worth and she came running, saw me and uttered "Holy f***ing s***. Hang on - I'll give you a hand." I replied: "Thanks. Any chance you could move the charger from under my leg?" I tried to be nonchalant and calm, but failed miserably and started to cry uncontrollably.
After a few minutes of shuffling, screaming with pain, and dragging stuff out of the way, I was sat up, lent against the wall and shivering. The feeling slowly came back into my arms, chest, gut, back and hips which, unsurprisingly, put me in more pain - at least my left thigh was hurting a lot less than it had been! The upper half of my body was rather white, the lower half a dull purple. It was just after 1pm.
The missus wanted to call an ambulance - I said not to as I could feel everything, but she did call the doctor out. He suggested putting me into a hot bath to help the blood get flowing again (and to get rid of the p*** smell!) and to soothe the aches and bruises.
*****
Today I'm sporting a big bruise on my back, just below my left shoulder blade where I was pressed up against the bedside table; I have another big bruise on my left thigh which looks horrific; and I've got a big purple patch on the underside of my right arm from my armpit to my elbow which the doctor said is a patch of burst blood vessels. Surprisingly, the only thing that really hurts is my neck: it aches all the time and twinges whenever I move it - the rest of me seems to have recovered quite well.
I'm not sure exactly why I'm posting this - I'm not looking for sympathy, I had enough of that from the missus and her family! To be honest, it's made me feel a bit better about it by putting it down on to paper, as it were.
So, can you remember what you were doing between 11am and 1pm on Wednesday 3rd March? I can ...
Now, let me elaborate ...
As some of you already know I am physically disabled: I have muscular dystrophy. This basically means that my muscles have - and still are - wasted away and are very small; an average male adult can grip my upper arm and his thumb and middle finger will touch. My legs are only good for resting a coffee cup on and showing off my tattoos in the summer. And when I'm lay down, the only thing I can lift up is my arm, and even then only 3 or 4 inches up.
I was lay in bed. I looked at my mobile to see what time it was - 10.37am - and decided I should get up. Getting up involves shuffling into position and then letting my legs slide off the side of the bed so I can use them as a kind of counter balance to sit myself up. Unfortunately at some point - I can't remember exactly when - I slipped and plummeted onto the floor. This was bad for several reasons, two of which were that there was zero chance of me being able to get up on my own and the fact that I seemed to be in a certain amount of pain.
The lower half of my body was "face down" but my back was twisted and the upper half of me had slid sideways between the bed and the bedside table. After about 2 or 3 seconds I realised that I couldn't breath - my neck was also twisted so that while my left shoulder was touching the ground and my right shoulder was vertically above it, my head was turned as far to the right - I was looking upwards - as it could go and my windpipe was pressed against the bed, stopping my airflow. For a few seconds I tried to take some gulps of air and only managed to expel what was already in my lungs. Panic set up and I tried as hard as I could to turn my head - I couldn't. Now, real fear set in - this was about 10 seconds after landing - and so I tensed everything I could and pushed back on the bedside table, allowing me to turn my head to my left - i.e. downwards - which released the pressure on my windpipe and allowed me to breathe. Phew. Big phew. My heart was racing somewhat.
So, after breathing rather deeply for a few minutes, I assessed my situation: I was stuck, well and truly; I couldn't reach my mobile, which was on the bed above me; I couldn't reach my house phone, which was on the bedside table; I couldn't reach my alarm cord, which was resting on the headboard; and, worst of all, I couldn't shout for help because I was face down with my head between the bed and the bedside table so no one would hear me ... and the missus was at her mum's house.
I was hurting - my left arm was bent underneath me and was slowly going numb; my right arm was bent between me and the bed and was also slowly going numb; my left leg was resting on the charger for my motorised chair - this is a small box, about 6 x 6 x 4 inches made of metal with sharp edges. As my lower half was effectively face down and this charger was under my left thigh, the lower part of my left left was pointing slightly upwards with all it's weight on my thigh at the point where it was pressed on the box ... and this was hurting, a lot. My right leg was fine.
I tried to move and only succeeded in causing more pain to everything that was already hurting. I was well and truly trapped. I could only think of one thing to do, so I did it: I screamed.
Not a lot happened after that; I could her people walking past the house, but no-one heard me shouting. Everything went numb after a while apart from my left leg and, rather unfortunately, I wet myself. I'd needed the loo as I was getting up and because of the numbness I has no idea I'd done it until after I'd been rescued.
This came sometime later I heard a key in the door - the missus had returned. I started shouting for all my worth and she came running, saw me and uttered "Holy f***ing s***. Hang on - I'll give you a hand." I replied: "Thanks. Any chance you could move the charger from under my leg?" I tried to be nonchalant and calm, but failed miserably and started to cry uncontrollably.
After a few minutes of shuffling, screaming with pain, and dragging stuff out of the way, I was sat up, lent against the wall and shivering. The feeling slowly came back into my arms, chest, gut, back and hips which, unsurprisingly, put me in more pain - at least my left thigh was hurting a lot less than it had been! The upper half of my body was rather white, the lower half a dull purple. It was just after 1pm.
The missus wanted to call an ambulance - I said not to as I could feel everything, but she did call the doctor out. He suggested putting me into a hot bath to help the blood get flowing again (and to get rid of the p*** smell!) and to soothe the aches and bruises.
*****
Today I'm sporting a big bruise on my back, just below my left shoulder blade where I was pressed up against the bedside table; I have another big bruise on my left thigh which looks horrific; and I've got a big purple patch on the underside of my right arm from my armpit to my elbow which the doctor said is a patch of burst blood vessels. Surprisingly, the only thing that really hurts is my neck: it aches all the time and twinges whenever I move it - the rest of me seems to have recovered quite well.
I'm not sure exactly why I'm posting this - I'm not looking for sympathy, I had enough of that from the missus and her family! To be honest, it's made me feel a bit better about it by putting it down on to paper, as it were.
So, can you remember what you were doing between 11am and 1pm on Wednesday 3rd March? I can ...
Page:
Yes: I fell out of bed and landed, unsurprisingly, on the floor. Go ahead: laugh. B*****ds ... ;^)
Now, let me elaborate ...
As some of you already know I am physically disabled: I have muscular dystrophy. This basically means that my muscles have - and still are - wasted away and are very small; an average male adult can grip my upper arm and his thumb and middle finger will touch. My legs are only good for resting a coffee cup on and showing off my tattoos in the summer. And when I'm lay down, the only thing I can lift up is my arm, and even then only 3 or 4 inches up.
I was lay in bed. I looked at my mobile to see what time it was - 10.37am - and decided I should get up. Getting up involves shuffling into position and then letting my legs slide off the side of the bed so I can use them as a kind of counter balance to sit myself up. Unfortunately at some point - I can't remember exactly when - I slipped and plummeted onto the floor. This was bad for several reasons, two of which were that there was zero chance of me being able to get up on my own and the fact that I seemed to be in a certain amount of pain.
The lower half of my body was "face down" but my back was twisted and the upper half of me had slid sideways between the bed and the bedside table. After about 2 or 3 seconds I realised that I couldn't breath - my neck was also twisted so that while my left shoulder was touching the ground and my right shoulder was vertically above it, my head was turned as far to the right - I was looking upwards - as it could go and my windpipe was pressed against the bed, stopping my airflow. For a few seconds I tried to take some gulps of air and only managed to expel what was already in my lungs. Panic set up and I tried as hard as I could to turn my head - I couldn't. Now, real fear set in - this was about 10 seconds after landing - and so I tensed everything I could and pushed back on the bedside table, allowing me to turn my head to my left - i.e. downwards - which released the pressure on my windpipe and allowed me to breathe. Phew. Big phew. My heart was racing somewhat.
So, after breathing rather deeply for a few minutes, I assessed my situation: I was stuck, well and truly; I couldn't reach my mobile, which was on the bed above me; I couldn't reach my house phone, which was on the bedside table; I couldn't reach my alarm cord, which was resting on the headboard; and, worst of all, I couldn't shout for help because I was face down with my head between the bed and the bedside table so no one would hear me ... and the missus was at her mum's house.
I was hurting - my left arm was bent underneath me and was slowly going numb; my right arm was bent between me and the bed and was also slowly going numb; my left leg was resting on the charger for my motorised chair - this is a small box, about 6 x 6 x 4 inches made of metal with sharp edges. As my lower half was effectively face down and this charger was under my left thigh, the lower part of my left left was pointing slightly upwards with all it's weight on my thigh at the point where it was pressed on the box ... and this was hurting, a lot. My right leg was fine.
I tried to move and only succeeded in causing more pain to everything that was already hurting. I was well and truly trapped. I could only think of one thing to do, so I did it: I screamed.
Not a lot happened after that; I could her people walking past the house, but no-one heard me shouting. Everything went numb after a while apart from my left leg and, rather unfortunately, I wet myself. I'd needed the loo as I was getting up and because of the numbness I has no idea I'd done it until after I'd been rescued.
This came sometime later I heard a key in the door - the missus had returned. I started shouting for all my worth and she came running, saw me and uttered "Holy f***ing s***. Hang on - I'll give you a hand." I replied: "Thanks. Any chance you could move the charger from under my leg?" I tried to be nonchalant and calm, but failed miserably and started to cry uncontrollably.
After a few minutes of shuffling, screaming with pain, and dragging stuff out of the way, I was sat up, lent against the wall and shivering. The feeling slowly came back into my arms, chest, gut, back and hips which, unsurprisingly, put me in more pain - at least my left thigh was hurting a lot less than it had been! The upper half of my body was rather white, the lower half a dull purple. It was just after 1pm.
The missus wanted to call an ambulance - I said not to as I could feel everything, but she did call the doctor out. He suggested putting me into a hot bath to help the blood get flowing again (and to get rid of the p*** smell!) and to soothe the aches and bruises.
*****
Today I'm sporting a big bruise on my back, just below my left shoulder blade where I was pressed up against the bedside table; I have another big bruise on my left thigh which looks horrific; and I've got a big purple patch on the underside of my right arm from my armpit to my elbow which the doctor said is a patch of burst blood vessels. Surprisingly, the only thing that really hurts is my neck: it aches all the time and twinges whenever I move it - the rest of me seems to have recovered quite well.
I'm not sure exactly why I'm posting this - I'm not looking for sympathy, I had enough of that from the missus and her family! To be honest, it's made me feel a bit better about it by putting it down on to paper, as it were.
So, can you remember what you were doing between 11am and 1pm on Wednesday 3rd March? I can ...
Now, let me elaborate ...
As some of you already know I am physically disabled: I have muscular dystrophy. This basically means that my muscles have - and still are - wasted away and are very small; an average male adult can grip my upper arm and his thumb and middle finger will touch. My legs are only good for resting a coffee cup on and showing off my tattoos in the summer. And when I'm lay down, the only thing I can lift up is my arm, and even then only 3 or 4 inches up.
I was lay in bed. I looked at my mobile to see what time it was - 10.37am - and decided I should get up. Getting up involves shuffling into position and then letting my legs slide off the side of the bed so I can use them as a kind of counter balance to sit myself up. Unfortunately at some point - I can't remember exactly when - I slipped and plummeted onto the floor. This was bad for several reasons, two of which were that there was zero chance of me being able to get up on my own and the fact that I seemed to be in a certain amount of pain.
The lower half of my body was "face down" but my back was twisted and the upper half of me had slid sideways between the bed and the bedside table. After about 2 or 3 seconds I realised that I couldn't breath - my neck was also twisted so that while my left shoulder was touching the ground and my right shoulder was vertically above it, my head was turned as far to the right - I was looking upwards - as it could go and my windpipe was pressed against the bed, stopping my airflow. For a few seconds I tried to take some gulps of air and only managed to expel what was already in my lungs. Panic set up and I tried as hard as I could to turn my head - I couldn't. Now, real fear set in - this was about 10 seconds after landing - and so I tensed everything I could and pushed back on the bedside table, allowing me to turn my head to my left - i.e. downwards - which released the pressure on my windpipe and allowed me to breathe. Phew. Big phew. My heart was racing somewhat.
So, after breathing rather deeply for a few minutes, I assessed my situation: I was stuck, well and truly; I couldn't reach my mobile, which was on the bed above me; I couldn't reach my house phone, which was on the bedside table; I couldn't reach my alarm cord, which was resting on the headboard; and, worst of all, I couldn't shout for help because I was face down with my head between the bed and the bedside table so no one would hear me ... and the missus was at her mum's house.
I was hurting - my left arm was bent underneath me and was slowly going numb; my right arm was bent between me and the bed and was also slowly going numb; my left leg was resting on the charger for my motorised chair - this is a small box, about 6 x 6 x 4 inches made of metal with sharp edges. As my lower half was effectively face down and this charger was under my left thigh, the lower part of my left left was pointing slightly upwards with all it's weight on my thigh at the point where it was pressed on the box ... and this was hurting, a lot. My right leg was fine.
I tried to move and only succeeded in causing more pain to everything that was already hurting. I was well and truly trapped. I could only think of one thing to do, so I did it: I screamed.
Not a lot happened after that; I could her people walking past the house, but no-one heard me shouting. Everything went numb after a while apart from my left leg and, rather unfortunately, I wet myself. I'd needed the loo as I was getting up and because of the numbness I has no idea I'd done it until after I'd been rescued.
This came sometime later I heard a key in the door - the missus had returned. I started shouting for all my worth and she came running, saw me and uttered "Holy f***ing s***. Hang on - I'll give you a hand." I replied: "Thanks. Any chance you could move the charger from under my leg?" I tried to be nonchalant and calm, but failed miserably and started to cry uncontrollably.
After a few minutes of shuffling, screaming with pain, and dragging stuff out of the way, I was sat up, lent against the wall and shivering. The feeling slowly came back into my arms, chest, gut, back and hips which, unsurprisingly, put me in more pain - at least my left thigh was hurting a lot less than it had been! The upper half of my body was rather white, the lower half a dull purple. It was just after 1pm.
The missus wanted to call an ambulance - I said not to as I could feel everything, but she did call the doctor out. He suggested putting me into a hot bath to help the blood get flowing again (and to get rid of the p*** smell!) and to soothe the aches and bruises.
*****
Today I'm sporting a big bruise on my back, just below my left shoulder blade where I was pressed up against the bedside table; I have another big bruise on my left thigh which looks horrific; and I've got a big purple patch on the underside of my right arm from my armpit to my elbow which the doctor said is a patch of burst blood vessels. Surprisingly, the only thing that really hurts is my neck: it aches all the time and twinges whenever I move it - the rest of me seems to have recovered quite well.
I'm not sure exactly why I'm posting this - I'm not looking for sympathy, I had enough of that from the missus and her family! To be honest, it's made me feel a bit better about it by putting it down on to paper, as it were.
So, can you remember what you were doing between 11am and 1pm on Wednesday 3rd March? I can ...
Nasty stuff. Sometimes I think I do take things like being able to get out of bed in the morning for granted, I just don't even think about it really. I just liked the image of you, soaked in wee and sweat, trying to act cool towards your missus when she got in. It made me laugh, when I probably shouldn't have.
Still, hope you get better soon mate.
Still, hope you get better soon mate.
Did you both say "To me" "To you" "To me" "To you" as you got up? Sorry, my mind is warped. Glad that it's mostly just your ego that's bruised (well, apart from the shiner you got)
You cheated death, had an excuse to soil your pajamas and will, no doubt, get a sympathy nosh from the missus.
TIMMARGH!!!!!
TIMMARGH!!!!!
Goatboy wrote:
had an excuse to soil your pajamas
-------
Yeah, you're very lucky. That's like the Holy Grail, everyone's looking for it.
had an excuse to soil your pajamas
-------
Yeah, you're very lucky. That's like the Holy Grail, everyone's looking for it.
Well I don't drink, so I can't use that one.
I think I might stage a dirty protest over something. Possibly some outrage at the treatment of indigenous people of wherever at the hands of the Evil Tyrant Bush.
Hey Timmargh, who'd win in a throwndown between you and that preachy Stephen Hawkslayer dude?
I think I might stage a dirty protest over something. Possibly some outrage at the treatment of indigenous people of wherever at the hands of the Evil Tyrant Bush.
Hey Timmargh, who'd win in a throwndown between you and that preachy Stephen Hawkslayer dude?
Goatboy wrote:
> Well I don't drink, so I can't use that one.
> I think I might stage a dirty protest over something. Possibly some
> outrage at the treatment of indigenous people of wherever at the
> hands of the Evil Tyrant Bush.
Wear seethrough rubber pants too. Theres money to be made on the net for the right sort of idivudual.
> Well I don't drink, so I can't use that one.
> I think I might stage a dirty protest over something. Possibly some
> outrage at the treatment of indigenous people of wherever at the
> hands of the Evil Tyrant Bush.
Wear seethrough rubber pants too. Theres money to be made on the net for the right sort of idivudual.
Pandaemonium wrote:
> Wear seethrough rubber pants too. Theres money to be made on the net
> for the right sort of idivudual.
The moral of this story? Don't type while the compiler is running...................
> Wear seethrough rubber pants too. Theres money to be made on the net
> for the right sort of idivudual.
The moral of this story? Don't type while the compiler is running...................
Or don't post secret insidey fantasies.
Ever.
*shudder*
I'll foul myself in the name of protest, but I won't have heavy-breathing Japanese businessman start a cult about me.
Ever.
*shudder*
I'll foul myself in the name of protest, but I won't have heavy-breathing Japanese businessman start a cult about me.
Oh, sorry, Goatboy...
www.seegoatboywearknickersandplaywithtoys.com is the number one Japanese site right now.
www.seegoatboywearknickersandplaywithtoys.com is the number one Japanese site right now.
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