last night a thing happened. i went to bed well before mr. monkey and promptly fell asleep. i have no idea what i was thinking or dreaming about, but i (half) woke when he came in and i must have figured he was either a stranger or god knows who, because i (apparently) tried to get up in a panic and managed, in a rather dramatic and spectacular fashion, to fall out of bed*…right on my tailbone. because i was half asleep when this whole thing happened, the first clear thing i remember is lying on the floor, tangled in the duvet, experiencing massive pain. it. fucking. hurt... mr. monkey, after semi-succesfully managing to stifle his laughter at what must have been a rather entertaining sight, grew alarmed at my continued distress.
i suspect i was on the floor for a good 15 minutes. the pain was so intense, i grew nauseous from it, and had to be given water. mr. monkey kept asking me if i could feel my legs, which did not calm me one bit but i could (and i still can). i finally managed to crawl back into bed and quickly realised i needed to ice my butt, so off he went into the kitchen to bring me my icepack, but instead brought me a cloth sack filled with plastic iceballs for chilling drinks. so i iced my aching tailbone with a bag of iceballs and was grateful to boot and every once in a while i heard mr. monkey chuckle, no doubt remembering the sight of me flailing out of bed, wrapped in a quilt, and landing on the floor. i'm sure it was funny. i just wish it hadn't been so fucking painful.
am sitting on the couch now, typing this, feeling rather tender. still, gonna get out there and do some stairs, because i haven't been running in a month and stairs are a reasonable alternative, plus, living as we do a short block from edmonton's steep river valley, we are blessed with a large variety of stairs to run. off i go. we'll see if i manage to do it without any more drama!
*a very tall bed. we have an extra tall bed, apparently for added drama in cases such as this.