There’s a song from my childhood that I don’t think My-Mother-The-Dowager-Duchess knows. Most of my friends have been unfamiliar with it, but I always enjoyed it and love to share it with new generations. I thought of the song this morning — with good reason.
Today is Corpus Christi. It’s an Andalusian holiday. And, yes, there was a procession. This one didn’t come by our house, however. It proceeded from the Cathedral at 8:30 in the morning and continued with a large schedule of events in the Plaza de San Francisco. I didn’t want to miss any of the procession, especially since Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-Grandpa San Fernando (the most important paso in the procession) was going to be paraded through the streets in an ermine cape (not that I was specifically thrilled about the ermine cape). I set my alarm for 7:00.
I woke up during the night and rolled over to check the time. What I didn’t realize was that I was already right at the edge of the bed. There was nothing remaining to roll over onto — except the floor.
The bed has a heavy wood frame that creates a small ledge along the sides. It’s got a hard, sharp edge (sharp, if you’re descended, as I am, from the princess of “The Princess and the Pea”). I hit my leg on the wood frame before sliding from there to the wood floor, hitting my head and shoulder as I landed.
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My head, neck, and shoulder simply hurt. The leg wasn’t pretty. The only adhesive bandages (“plasters”) we had were small, so I created a patchwork to cover the cut and scrapes and went back to bed. I didn’t sleep. At 7:00, I rolled out of bed — much more carefully — slid a pair of jeans over the achy, pulling, patchwork, and headed out for the festivities. I walked 10 minutes there, spent more than 2 hours watching the processions, and then walked back to meet San Geraldo for breakfast. (He had slept through my entire mishap.) By this time, the hodge-podge of bandages were painfully pulling at skin and hair.
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After breakfast, Nurse San Geraldo went to the store and picked up a collection of gauze, cloth tape, and adhesive bandages. This time around, I used ointment and did a slightly better job patching myself up. (San Geraldo wanted to do it for me, but I insisted.) Given the sizes and positions of the cut and scrapes and the sizes of bandages San Geraldo could find at the only store open on this holiday, the patch-job looks absurd. And it doesn’t adhere well, except to the hair on my leg. But it’s definitely better than before.
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We had lunch downstairs and, when I told Teré what I had done, she burst out laughing (although she tried really hard not to). After lunch, Jerry went upstairs and I stayed to pay the bill. As I walked out the door, Teré called loudly to me in Spanish. “Be careful.” She then smiled wickedly and continued “in bed!” It may have done wonders for my reputation. I received some [admiring] glances.
Tomorrow I’ll share with you what I saw on the streets this morning — despite my injuries. Right now, I need some ibuprofen and a nap. I’m fine, Mom.
All I have to say is for somebody so clumsy you sure have sexy legs.
As far as processions not going past your house…I have friends in high places and a phone call would persuade them to include your street in any future procesiones.
Just kidding.
saludos,
raulito
Raulito:
Don't call your friends. It's good for me to get out of the house. Besides, I wouldn't all my procession photos to have the same background scenery! (Thanks about the legs!)
Holy Cow, fella! You gotta watch those night-time gymnastics. Maybe you need a bigger bed–are the two kitties crowding you out?
Oh, Ms. Sparrow, it IS a big bed. And I no longer let the cats sleep with me (they're too active and keep me awake). I just sleep oddly. I've come close many times to falling off the bed. Some nights/mornings I wake up perpendicular to where I started. Usually, pillows can be found on the floor or in opposite corners. I'm dangerous when I sleep. Our old cat, Dobie, loved to cuddle in bed with me. But, he knew from experience to leave the minute I turned off the light.
That wasn't a rollover it was a fallout.
And that is never good.
Bob:
Yep, that was a rollover AND a fallout. Man, am I sore right now! (And every time I picture myself as it happened, I start laughing.)
You're obviously not safe with machinery. Sleep on the floor in future! Or take a tot or two fewer in your bedtime Horlicks…
The Owl Wood:
No, not safe with machinery. Nor with sharp objects. (And walls and doors have presented some problems at times.) But, maybe a tot or two in the first place would help.
Ouch! Your wound looks pretty bad! I'm familiar with the "Roll over" song! It could be fun to teach in my 4 and 5 year old classes at school! 🙂
Brittany:
Your kids would love it, I'm sure. They can act it out as they sing it. And then you can do a video for YouTube (that would have been so much better than what I found).
I would be a big man about my "wound" and say, "It's nothing," but that wouldn't be consistent with all the whinging I've been doing this evening (my neck hurts, my head hurts, my hip hurts… oh poor me)! It will be much better tomorrow.
After the first shock of falling out of the bed I would have laughed too. Luckely I don't have a ridge to hurt or cut my legs on, but the hight from bed to floor would have hurt my hip and/or bottom. Next to getting up again which is murder.
I'm glad you're okay, and hope you will re-stock your first-aid kit soon.
Peter:
I bought large adhesive bandages today, but they're not quite big enough to cover it all, so I still have a little hodge podge. Better than before.
And speaking of hurting one's bottom: I've got a large bruise on one cheek; didn't realize I had done that until I tried to sit on it!
Beds are very dangerous.
Oh, my heavens, those are some nasty scrapes, Mitchell! Sorry to hear about it. I can't believe Jerry slept through it — it must have been a rude awakening for you!
Judith:
I'm glad I was half-awake when I did it. Jerry would have taken good care of me had he been awake (it seemed unfair to wake him at 3 a.m. just because I fell off the bed). At 11, he asked if I needed stitches!
Mitchell, you finally show some skin talk about your acrobatics in bed, and this is what we get?
You will never qualify for one of those little blogger warnings I have seen on some of those "Other sites"…at this rate…
Not to make fun of your pain, but I suggest a couple of glasses of wine, before you rip those bandages off….
Be well
Tim
Theaterdog:
Less is more. If I had shown it all to you, there'd be no more allure. (Of course, that requires there to be some allure in the first place!) I changed the bandages a little while ago. No wine. Just a pair of scissors to cut the hair!
"..so they all rolled over and one fell out!" As soon as I saw your hairy leg and the plasters, my only thought was "ouch", and not because of the wound.
You need some sandpaper and a lot of patience – get those sharp edges and corners smoothed and rounded!
Elaine:
I had a brilliant idea today when I was about to change the bandages. I decided I would just shave that part of my leg where the adhesive would be stuck. So, I removed the old bandages, applied fresh ointment, and then slapped on the new bandages… completely forgetting to shave. And the new bandage is sticking really well to the skin as well as the hair. I'm in trouble.
I always feel sorry for people with hairy legs (or arms) when the plaster has to come off – the very thought of it makes me shiver !! Almost as painful as the original injury sometimes I think.
Jean:
And quite often worse!
Yes I know the nursery rhyme, used it as a mum! Ouch your damaged leg, actually I think it was an excuse to show us a) your poorly knee b) the injury c) just how sexy your knee is!?
We have had a lot of celebrations here Diamond Jubilee everything, all been great fun.
the cuby poet:
The Diamond Jubilee would have been fun to witness in-person. My brother-in-law talked about attending the coronation (I think he still has the silver spoon). He took my niece to the 25th (she I think still has the stainless steel spoon). Now, there's a grandson to see the Jubilee (probably a package of plastic spoons this time)!
Oh, yes, my sole intention was to show off my sexy(?) knee. It's good it was the right knee; the left knee is not at all sexy. But truly, 1) I wanted sympathy; 2) I wanted to entertain; and 3) I wanted to warn everyone of the dangers of beds. If I were still in the USA, I'd be surrounded by lawyers by now.
Ouch. Did your husband kiss it and make it feel better? 🙁
Writer:
Always! He's good like that.
Must be a 60's thing! Ron is always stumbling/falling/hitting some body part too! But never out of bed….yet!
You poor thing! But remember you are from Brooklyn, which makes a difference, right?
Time to line the bed frame with a nicely covered memory foam creation!
Jim:
By a 60's thing, do you mean 1960s (as in flashbacks) or the age 60 and above (which I am not yet)? I don't tend to stumble/fall, but I do tend to hit some body part or another, and it always leaves a bruise. Not pictured from my roll-over is the black & blue on my upper right hind quarters! In addition to the memory-foamed bed frame, I should probably do something to the hard floor. And door handles and door frames can be dangerous as well… Oh, and kitchen cabinets… and coffee tables… and… The world is a dangerous place!
Mitchell…some of us are clumsy and some of us aren't….as Jim alluded to…I haven't fallen out of bed yet. Love the comment from Tere uttered at the MOST appropriate of times!! wink wink
Ron:
As Jerry said, falling out of bed is something HE would do. He just wouldn't get hurt. I also can't be trusted with sharp objects. I start off with care and then got cocky… and then get cut!