Camping: CPAP And Gravity: Part 2

You don’t have to watch a clip from the old Disney movie Kung Fu Panda, but it’s what I’m talking about in the rest of this post.

Spoiler alert & synopsis: Wise protector Oogway has a vision that a super strong mega-evil snow leopard will escape from prison. He sends his messenger, a goose, to the prison to warn them. The prison had been inescapable but one of the messenger’s feathers falls within reach of the leopard. The leopard uses the feather to escape.

Trying to avid a thing causes it to happen.

It’s a cliché but I did it.

I got worried about getting injured just hopping out of my truck bed (which is a risky maneuver). In trying to avoid that risk I sent my self to destination fucked. (With all due respect to Ozzyman.)

This wasn’t a tiny slip… it was pancaking into unpleasant shaped cement. You know when you’re watching sports, something like football or hockey, and a dude takes a hit so solid that you’re like “that’s it, put a fork in him, he’s cooked”. That’s what happened to me.

So I was lying there beneath my tailgate… letting the nausea subside and then… nothing.

Nothing happened.

I didn’t expect that.

After a couple minutes of gasping for breath and assuming I was screwed, I rolled onto my chest and pushed myself up. I felt like I’d been put through a shredder but I was standing.

I wasn’t coughing up blood. It kind of surprised me!

I made my way back to my picnic table where my Coleman lantern was merrily lighting the scene. My little campfire was still lit. I wasn’t dizzy. The nausea only lasted a few minutes. My toes and fingers were moving properly. I didn’t hit my head and my eyes seemed to focus correctly.

I was convinced I’d be dead meat after the fall. But… no.

I guess I was lucky? I feel like it was a big deal; “win the lottery” luck!

I tried a deep breath and that went OK. If you break a rib it hurts a lot and you don’t like deep breaths. So a deep breath was a good sign.

I grabbed a bottle of water, slammed a couple Tylenol (I’d be needing them!), and waited.

After a half hour of not dying, I decided I was fine.

I called my friend.

“You’re the creator of a self-fulfilling prophecy!”

“What?”

“You’re like that fuckin’ duck from Kung Fu Panda. The warning itself caused the thing warned against.”

“Um…”

“I fell off the tailgate of my truck!”

“Drinking?”

“No! Trying to be cautious. I was thinking of you needing surgery so I tried to climb down like a cautious geezer. I landed on cement.”

“Whoa! Ironic!”

“Good news is I seem to be fine. I’ll be damned if I know why.”

“Jesus man, don’t be falling off trucks anymore OK?”

We both agreed that falling off trucks is to be avoided. The manual that isn’t written about things you shouldn’t do while getting old should have a whole chapter about truck tailgates. I wished him well for his surgery the next day and hung up.

I hurt. But there’s two kinds of hurt. There’s “signal to your body that something is injured” and “nothing is injured but you pushed the envelope and shouldn’t do that again”. I had the latter. I’m still shocked I didn’t end up at the ER.

What do you do after an event like that? Nothing. Do nothing!

I did a very good job of doing nothing.

I drank more water. I sat by the fire. Very still.

I happily listened to people laughing in a campsite a few sites away. It sounded like they were playing Uno. Sounded like a handful of teenage girls. Happy people playing a fun card game. Can there be anything more wholesome?

A raccoon came through my campsite. I was far too worn out to have murderous intent. I stayed in my chair and told him to leave, which he did. He went after some garbage from the campsite next to me. A person was snoring in their car with the windows down (no tent at all). I shooed him away and then hobbled back to my seat.

I had intent to write a cool blog post with deep thoughts, or read a good book. But after “the tailgate incident” I lowered my expectations. I put on a Bluetooth headset (to maintain quiet in the campsite) and listened to a few chapters of “Dungeon Crawler Carl”.

Deep literature? No. Absolutely pleasant moment sitting by the fire munching cookies? Yes!

I stayed up late, enjoying the total lack of rushing about, and frankly I was super happy to be (relatively) uninjured. Nothing improves your mood like getting shitmixed but then just walking it off. Feels like a boss move.

I’d sought absolutely no drama and I got that. Mostly. There was ten seconds of blinding pains followed by ten minutes discovering (marveling at?) the fact I was fine… and I’m still a little “achy” a few days later. But overall it was fine.

Four out of five stars; I enjoyed the campsite as much as a man who’s fallen off a tailgate could.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

A.C.

P.S. I already had a Dr. appointment the next day. Convenient eh? The doc didn’t think I broke anything and I didn’t even need x-rays. How awesome is that?

P.S.2. I’m not saying exercise makes you impervious, but maybe it helped? Did “working out” with trekking poles turn “you’ll need a cast” into “walk it off”? Who knows?