If you read my recent post, you know that exactly one week ago today I broke my nose.
Just in case this has never happened to you, I thought I’d share some of the highlights that are unique to the broken nose experience:
It hurts.
It makes you talk funny.
It makes you down a bottle of cold medicine because getting a cold while suffering a broken nose would be like God laughing at you.
It makes you see your own swollen nose no matter what you’re really looking at.
It makes you appreciate the little things in life. (Emphasis on the word “little”.)
But apart from all that, walking around with a broken nose isn’t all that bad. In fact, during this past week I’ve kind of been feeling like Sylvester Stallone in “Rocky”. Tough and cool and cute.
Only less tough and cool and cute than Sylvester Stallone in “Rocky” and more like me with a broken nose.
Oh sure. The skin around my eyes makes me look a little jaundiced (or like a racoon that dipped its glasses in yellow paint before putting them on), but I’m beginning to think that the worse part of all this was the 12 hours I spent waiting at the hospital only to be told that “I’m not a priority”.
Translation:
“Your file is at the bottom of the pile and will continue to be at the bottom of the pile because people that are sicker and more broken than you keep walking in.”
I consider myself lucky that I can read between the lines. Otherwise, tomorrow I’d be celebrating exactly one week of sitting in the hospital waiting for someone les broken than me to walk in.
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