But apparently they fall down too.
At least, that is, if I fit the definition of a Weeble, and according to Wifester's description of my seizure and subsequent fall in the parking lot of Target yesterday, I am quite the Weeble who wobbled and then fell down. And boy did I fall. Like most times when that happens, I don't have a lot of memory of the event preceding or just following. I only hold small, spotty memory of bits and pieces. Kind of like taking a jigsaw puzzle and throwing all the pieces in the air and scooping up a hand full of whatever happened to land near you. You can see these few glimpses of the full picture clearly, but are not quite sure exactly how they all fit together.
I remember walking along and then I remember my legs not working anymore and the pavement getting closer and closer to my face.
I remember a kind man's voice, but not his face. And I remember Wifester, in my face, asking questions. The usual ones. Followed by "Can you talk to me?"
A wheelchair magically appeared, and I was assisted into it, and here's where things got really weird for me. I have no clue who was pushing the chair or what was going on around me. All I know is that my ass was really, really, really HOT.
And I don't mean hot like Beyonce's ass is hot, I mean hot like something is on fire, hot. Wifester says I was screaming "My butt's on fire!!" while trying to vacate the chair, except my legs were still not really working so I was clumsily unsuccessful. I would be remiss, did I not stop at this point to inform you, it appears that my ass simply is a bit too wide for the wheelchair. Go ahead, laugh it up. My hips, it seems, were causing the metal sides of the chair to rub against the wheels, unbeknownst to any of us at the moment.
Wifester decided, since I appeared to be having some kind of psychotic episode, what with the screaming about asses aflame and trying to climb out of the moving wheelchair, to hurry up and get me to the car. She began pushing the chair faster, which in turn made my ass burn all the more.
I was neither conscious enough, nor lucid enough to have the wherewithall to explain to her what was happening in a manner that she could understand. It seems that all that I could articulate at that postictal state was "It burns! It burns!"
Wifester says she even asked if I'd been stung by something.
Well, we made it to our car and once I was seated in it, I realized my knees were both throbbing, my left ankle and my right wrist were throbbing. My right shoulder...I hurt from head to toe. Speaking of toes, a few of them, I noticed, were scraped up. Damned flip flops are no help when you go down on pavement like that.
Today I have 6 bandages. At least it's basically symmetrical. On each side I now have a bandage on each hip, for the blisters from the burns from the wheelchair, (yes, I have second degree ass burns from the chair!) a bandage on each knee, and a bandage on a toe on each foot.
And I'd just done that pedicure!
Gah...sometimes living with me must be a real joy for the Wifester.
There are going to be zombies in town today and the Wifester and I were going to go to take photos...
I just don't think I can do it. I'm pretty gimped up. My arms, shoulders, back...everything hurts. not to mention my knees that look pretty much like hamburger meat.
Hopefully Wifester will still go. I really want to see those zombies!