Friday afternoon and I was glad to be on my way home from work for the weekend. Even though I like my job, weekends are still really nice things. I hurried through the Minneapolis skyway system to catch my train. Made it and settled in to read for a few minutes.
I have put Sword at Sunset reluctantly aside for a bit to focus on a book called From Gutenberg to the Global Information Infrastructure by Christine Borgman. She is the author of one of the articles I am going to use in my term paper and a big name in the realm of digital libraries and I hoped that the book would yield some interesting information for my project. So far, nothing, but it is still interesting since it was published in 2000. There is quite a lot of fascinating information about the beginnings of digital libraries and technology. What is especially amusing is that neither blogs nor Google had become the things they are now. Netscape gets mentioned but not Google and online publishing mentions personal websites but nothing about blogs. Sometimes it feels like I am reading ancient history, the internet and technology has changed so much in nine years. Makes me wonder what amazing things we’ll have nine years from now when we will look back in wonder that X had not been invented yet.
The train pulled into my stop, I closed the book and pushed my way through the people standing around the train doors. Why do we hover around the doors I wonder? I do it myself if there is no seat even though there are straps to hold onto all along the train aisle. There is some behavioral reason for it I am sure. Maybe a fear of being trapped or something?
Anyway, so I exit the train and notice that it has arrived at the stop a few minutes late and the bus I catch home is already there and will be pulling away in about a minute. If I miss that bus another one won’t be along for 20 minutes and I won’t be home until 5:30 instead of the usual 5:00. So I start running. Bag over one arm, book in hand, I am sure I was as beautiful to watch as an Olympic sprinter about to set a world record. But I made it to the bus before it closed its doors to pull away and what little dignity I had after the sprint I lost as I tripped on the step up onto the bus and sprawled face down onto the floor.
My favorite bus driver who has an Australian accent was driving and as I popped up off the floor trying to pretend I had been upright all along, she asked, with much concern, whether I was okay. My left shin hurt and I looked down and saw no blood and I obviously hadn’t broken anything, so I hastily told her I was fine. She asked if I was sure and I reassured her, yes, yes. I took a seat and one of the passengers asked if I was really okay. Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to be left alone in my embarrassment.
My shin hurt a lot and I covertly looked down again to make sure I wasn’t bleeding or anything. No, it just hurt and I figured I was going to have a big bruise on my shin. I felt a slight pain at my temple and reached up and found a little bump there. I must have hit my head on something. But there was no blood, I didn’t have a headache and the bump was the size of a small walnut. I was a bit dismayed and kept waiting for the headache but it never came.
At my stop the bus driver asked me again if I was ok. Yeah, I told her. I think my pride was hurt more than anything else.
I only live three houses away from the bus stop so was home pretty quickly. Walking hurt but not badly, just felt bruised. I got home and my Bookman was there making and dinner I sat down at a kitchen chair and told him what had happened. He immediately transformed into a Mother Hen and began clucking around oh so worried even though I was obviously not in any kind of dire straits. I had not actually pulled up my pants leg to look at my shin on the bus so I pulled it up now expecting to see nothing more than a big bruise and maybe a scrape.
There was a small scrape that didn’t even rank among scrapes I’ve had growing up running around in shorts and skirts on sidewalks and streets and the playground at school. The scrape was nothing.
The bruise on the other hand. It hadn’t appeared yet. Instead there was a bump on my shin the size of a goose egg. The clucking from the Mother Hen who used to be my husband increased in alarm and went up in volume. To say I wasn’t mildly concerned would be a lie, but I felt fine and nothing was broken so I sort of admired the biggest bump I’ve ever had in my entire life and felt very satisfied because I had no idea I was so tough. Vaguely, in the back of my brain, I knew I should put some ice on it, but the front of my brain said, yeah, yeah, just a minute we aren’t done feeling tough yet.
From the clucking I heard, “you should ice it” and I reluctantly acknowledged that yes, I should. Leg propped up and ice pack in place, the Mother Hen began turning back into my husband as it became obvious I was in no danger of keeling over. I thought I should probably take some ibuprofen too and the Mother Hen clucked in approval and went and retrieved me a couple of tablets.
My Bookman finished making dinner only occasionally interrupting the process to cluck at me and to make sure the swollen lump was going down. By the time dinner was over, the lump was mostly gone and the bruise had begun to show and the bump on my head, which I was not forced to ice, had also gone down and is now only a tender spot.
My bruised shin is a bit uncomfortable but certainly not painful. It has become quite colorful and I will not be wearing skirts for a few weeks, at least not short ones. From just above my ankle to my knee is a mottled purple and blue. I have never seen anything quite like it on my own body before and look at it amazement from time to time.
I have promised my Bookman that I will not run to catch the bus again, at least if I am wearing sandals, which I was on Friday. And while sprawling through the door onto the floor of the bus is one way to keep it from driving away, I wouldn’t recommend it.
Ohhhh. Ouch. Hurt pride more than anything… but that bruise sounds like a prizewinner! Glad you were not more hurt. The image of your little Mother Hen clucking around you is very sweet. Take it easy this weekend and no more running for the bus!
Ouch, Stefanie. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Head injuries particularly scare me these days because of what happened to Natasha Richardson.
I’m glad you’re okay.
Your bus driver sounds lovely; I can see why she’s your favorite. I too spend LOTS of time reading on the bus. I’ve had one major face plant episode-I totally ate it while trying to exit the bus on a rainy day. In heels. Since then, I’ve stuck to flats while busing. Hope your bumps and bruises heal quickly!
Ow! Got any pictures?
You midwesterners are indeed tough. Reminds me of the time I took the bus & walked home after spraining my ankle at the park. As soon as I got home my ankle ceased to be functional. Gotta love adrenaline.
How nice to have someone to cluck over you. When I hurt myself the cat just assures me that he’s still hungry. Sigh.
I hope you’re feeling better! It amazes me how quickly falling happens! One moment you’re walking along, and then the next finds you sprawled on the ground. The only thing about falling is that brief moment of free-fall experienced when your half way to the ground. “Oh, man, I’m falling!” And that’s all the control you have. I remember falling in a store after walking in the rain. I landed flat on my back! I was shocked and hurting, but embarassed even more, so I lifted my head from the floor to look around to see if anyone noticed me. No one else was around, so I laid my head back down and actually laid there a minute to get my breath back! Then I hauled myself up and went about my business, but it took half a day for the all-over soreness to wear off and I could move normally instead of lurching about.
Stef! Be careful! We all love you too much to go head first into a bus. When I lived in Barstow, CA in the 9th grade I had some badass girl push me into a bus. But I got no good corresponding bruise! I love it when the body responds good enough for evidence to be seen. Take care and I hope we can see you soon!
Ouch! Glad you’re OK. I am always covered in mystery bruises. I bruise very easily and often don’t remember the mishap that caused them. The other day, I hit my leg with the car door. It wasn’t bad, but I remember thinking, “Well, that’s going to leave a mark.” Sure enough a bruise the size of a Kennedy half-dollar shows up. It’s interesting to watch it go through the spectrum from blue to vivid purple to green to sickly yellow. I never would have thought such a tiny mishap would produce such a big bruise. It’s no wonder I can’t remember where the smaller ones came from.
So what about the bump on your head – is that better? My son always tells me I worry too much.
Sorry I missed the part about the head bump now being a tender spot – I was hyper-ventilating all the way through your post.
Oh sister… *shaking my head*
This sort of made me laugh – not, I hasten to add because I like the thought of you sprawling on a bus – but because you sound like my son if he’s managed to sustain a really impressive injury that isn’t too terribly painful. It’s a fine, proud moment. I’m very glad the bookman was there to cluck and provide ice, and that you can wear your bruises as a badge of courage and say quietly to folk ‘I wrestle buses, you know’. But don’t do it again.
Ok all, I just have to “cluck” in my defense. I have known Stefanie over 20 years and the most serious injury she has ever had was a long cat scratch down her leg (yes, I was directly responsible for that one, and no I won’t tell you how) and I just didn’t know how to react. I had all of the horror and none of the comparable moments. You should know by now, Stefanie is the caregiver, I’m the klutz. And everyone of your “Oh My’s!” makes me preen my feather’s in pride. Thanks.
Bookman, I think you are a prize of heavy-duty proportions. (Stefanie obviously thinks so too). Cluck away, dear heart.
Daphne, oh the bruise is a prize winner. My mother hen is a sweetie. And I promise no more running for the bus!
Susan, thanks. The bump on my head was quite minor. I’ve had a concussion before and was pretty sure right away that there was no serious injury there. Still, head bumps can be scary. My husband made sure I could track his finger and my pupils were the same size before he believed that I was ok.
Rosemary, the driver is a gem. Your own bus injury sounds rather painful. It sounds as though you have recovered well I am glad to hear.
Sylvia, don’t tempt me to take a photo! I think your sprained ankle trumps my bruises. I know what you mean about the adrenaline. I kept waiting for it to work through my system and expected to really hurt but thank goodness, other than being tender, it wasn’t so bad. And I’m sure your cat is concerned but the cat code says he is not supposed to let on
Laura, thank you, no pain, just a big tender bruise I forget about until a cat rubs against it. Your fall at the store sounds painful. Nice that no one was around and you could lay there a minute.
Angie, dear Angie, what a terrible story about 9th grade! I seem to recall a certain someone I know picking gravel out of some nasty wounds, not once, but twice
I promise I’ll be more careful and we’ll see you soon.
Dana, I bruise easily too and sometimes have little mystery bruises. At least I know where this big one came from!
Bonnie, mothers can never worry too much about their children. My head is doing fine, thanks!
Cindy my sister, yes, keep shaking that head!
Litlove, I am glad you got a laugh–can you tell I was a bit of a tomboy when I was a kid? And I’m still not much of a girly-girl. I’m going to use that ‘I wrestle buses’ line sometime. And I promise I won’t do it again!
Grad, he is a prize winner, isn’t he?
Go on, take photo! Oh well, I hope the bruise at least matches your tattoos.
Goodness, what an adventure! I am very glad you are okay (wounded pride aside – that is always quite painful!) and that your Bookman knew exactly what to do. I hope you’re feeling better and that goose egg is healing quickly.
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Now that sounds like something I would do. I hate waiting and hate missing buses so I would have made a dash for it too! I have a fear of falling on a bus as I have seen people wipe out on those slippery aisles in winter (literally feet fly out from under you). It’s good someone sympathetic was at home ready to apply ice and whatever else was necessary to help regain your pride. I must say though–sandals are deadly. Never run in them (especially if you have to climb stairs to a bus–or it sounds like yours are the stairless ones, but still!). At least you didn’t do this in flip flops.
Sylvia, the bruise is on the opposite leg from my tattoos but if you don’t look too closely beneath the hem of my skirt of capris, the bruise does sort of look like a weird tattoo.
Verbivore, it was an adventure I could have done without, but thanks for the well wishes.
Danielle, if I have been wearing flip flops I wouldn’t have run, but I was wearing Birkenstock sandals and those feel so solid on the feet. Ah well. I have a fear of falling off the bus too but never thought about falling onto the bus! I hope you never have the falling on or off the bus experience!
I’m catching this waaay too late, so I hope by now everything is back to normal! I’m known to get myself huge bruises, I never go in holidays without a cream called hirudoid. Maybe if it’s still bad you can make inquiries about it.
So funny how in such circumstances, embarrassment takes over the possibility of injury. I completely understand why, say, athletes often walk off the field and then keel over from a concussion or discover a leg is broken. Glad you’re okay!