Just how stupid does a person have to be before God calls them home???

I think Darwin was right, and I nearly dropped out of the Human Race yesterday. *sigh*

Here's the story of my 'weekend' so far:

Wednesday night I left my home out in the desert and drove over the mountains to visit with the in-laws and score some Thanksgiving Dinner.

My wife is on a trip back to Omaha, Nebraska to be at a wedding next week.

Anyway, Thursday went OK, then Friday morning I had to drive up into the mountains to bring my Dad down for my Step-Mom's funeral that morning.

(Don't worry, I'll get to the point soon, and it'll be worth it!)

After the funeral I took Dad home then came back down the mountain to spend the night in town before driving home again.

Saturday I saw on the weather news that the beach would have beautiful sunny weather that day, so I decided to drive over to the coast (about 2-1/2 hours) and goof off for a couple of hours before heading back to the desert.

I made the drive over without incident, and stopped at Moonstone Beach near Cambria to watch the water and a surfer who was using a parasail wing.

Here's where I got stupid:

I got out of the car, and using my two crutches, moved around to the other side to see better, as well as get out of the breeze.

I've been to Moonstone Beach many times, and the parking lot is above the sand on a sandstone 'bluff' about 15 feet high. I stepped around the front fender, onto the hard sandstone, and immediately my feet went out from under me.

Apparently the 'sandstone' was slick clay, but it had never been wet when I was there before.

I fell a foot or two - just from standing to sitting...then I slid over the edge of the bluff and down into a little muddy canyon. All-in-all I was about 5 or 6 feet from my car.

HOWEVER: something went POP just before my butt hit the clay, and when I stopped sliding I found that I could move my right leg and foot OK - but for some reason I couldn't put any pressure on it.

I got rolled over so I wasn't face-down in the mud, got the mud off my glasses and out of my eyes, and tried to get a grip and inch my way back up the gully.

After about 1/2 hour I had moved less than 5 inches.

The surfer came onshore and came over and asked me if I was OK, and naturally I replied "No, I've fallen and I can't get back up to the parking lot."

He was a big guy, buy he couldn't move me. We found my cell phone and got enough mud out of it so it would work, and called 911. The dispatcher had never heard of Moonstone Beach and we tried to get her to understand for about 15 minutes...then a big red fire truck rolled into the parking lot.

Apparently the fire crew was returning to the firehouse after a call, and noticed my muddy figure in the gully. How they could see me, I still don't know. I thought the mud was pretty darned good camoflage!

Anyway, two husky young firemen grabbed ahold of me and tried to heave me up the hill, then there were three of us in the gully covered in mud!

It took FIVE firemen to move me back up to the parking lot! No wonder I wasn't making any progress on my own!

After sorting things out, we jointly determined that I had broken or disolocated something (they palpated, I screamed like a girl) so I got an ambulance ride 35 miles to the hospital.

The head nurse (I guess Chief Nurse is more politically correct?) wanted me hosed off before they rolled me into the nice clean emergency room...but I ended up leaving the cubicle looking like someone had been mud-bogging and washed their truck in there!

Anyway, I got X-rays and an Osteopath came by to see me. I didn't break the hip, although I may have dislocated it and then popped it back in place.

WHAT I DID DO was to shear off the flange of bone on the pelvis that's above the hip joint. That place where all the muscles attach.

The break is about 8 inches long, starting right at the top of the hip socket and going straight up.

The Doc said he'd never seen a break like this, or even heard of one. He thought it was a 'fairly stable fracture' and that surgery wouldn't help it heal any faster. So I told them to let me go, and I got a ride back to my car. It took me a LONG time going from the one car to my own, and getting into the driver's seat was nothing but excruciating pain.

Once I was settled in, though, it wasn't too bad. I had the other driver follow me to a gas station and pump me a tank of gas and I started home.

I got as far as Bakersfield - roughly 1/2 way - before I just had to stop. I came to my sister-in-law's house (they were out) and crawled in to the guest bedroom, downed a lot of painkillers and drifted off.

It now looks like I won't be making it home any time soon. Looking at the X-rays in better light and not so fogged with pain, I see the top curve of the hip joint socket just exploded, taking the slab of bone above it.

He estimated that it would be about 6 weeks before I could bear any weight on it. Good thing I have my wheelchair!

I'll be talking to a better Opteopath here, and I'm 90% sure that extensive corrective surgery is going to be required. *sigh*

Meanwhile, the bathroom is about 10 feet from my bed, and it hasn't taken me less than 1/2 hour each way.

To say the least, I'm not a happy camper!

And all this pain and trouble stemmed from a misstep and slip that shouldn't have done more than bruise my pride.

The moral of this story would be "Gravity Is A Harsh Mistress!"

(Yes, you can send flowers & cookies!)

Steve