You’d be surprised how easily the former can lead to the latter.

Wednesday, Melanie and I went to a carnival that was open in her neighborhood. It was small and crappier than most carnivals/feasts. We went anyways and took our chances on a few rides that looked like they were being run by drunken Mexicans and held together by rust and a prayer. The haunted ride was laughable and the ferris wheel shook a bit too much when the wind blew. The scrambler was a bit too much spinning for me, but I didn’t get sick. The bumper cars did me in, though.

Well, I think the bumper cars are what resulted in my injury. There were no seat belts, just a loose lap bar and, being a tad taller than the average person, I had to cram myself into the vehicle. After the five or so minutes on the ride, I exited with, what I thought, was stiffness in my right side. After leaving the carnival and heading back to Melanie’s, I decided to lie down on her bed. When I went to get back up, I felt a sharp pain in my rib cage and knew something was definitely wrong. After some self diagnosis and a quick look by her grandmother (who used to be a nurse), it would appear that I have a fractured rib on my right side.

It’s a good injury to have, in a way, because there’s no needed trip to the doctor (not an option when you don’t have health insurance). You just have to take it easy and let it heal itself. The problem is, though, that the smallest movements have the potential of aggravating it and causing a lot of pain. I’m still trying to figure out how to get out of bed without killing myself.

This is one of those “only me” moments. Let me tell you, though, a sneeze becomes such a frightening action when you have a fractured rib. You feel it coming on and know that, in a few seconds, you’re bound for a ton of pain and there’s little you can do to stop it.