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  • August 2022
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Just a bit cracked, I am

I was reading Lime’s post (a blogger who is part of the Letterdash community) yesterday morning about pain and broken ribs, and I can certainly relate to that feeling of excruciating pain each time you take a breath, never mind the agony of trying to dress.

And how did I end up with a couple of cracked ribs, I hear you ask?

That’s the easy part.

My Giant Rat gave them to me.

Picture the scene:

We were young and stupid (as opposed to being older and still stupid!)

My Giant Rat and I had this little ‘thing’ where I would run and jump up, with him catching me as I clung to him like a monkey with my arms and legs wrapped around his torso. Which, considering the great difference in our size and height, was a whole lot of fun to do especially as we would first snuggle before making him carry me too.

Anyhoo, one memorable Saturday evening we set off to the movies with a good friend of ours. I don’t know how many of the Durban bloggers remember the Nu Metro cinema complex at the BP Centre in West Street, but it was a great venue, complete with a bar where one could have a drink before going to settle down to watch a movie. For the life of me I cannot recall which movie the three of us had gone to watch, but I do remember us having a couple of drinks first. I’m sure it must have been some or other action movie which probably put one of the most daft ideas into my noggin…

The cinema itself was huge, with a central horizontal passage separating the upper and lower seating areas, and two vertical aisles separating the blocks of seats. Naturally we were seated right at the back (as I hate seeing a movie before anyone else *grin*), and after the movie ended we waited for everyone to vacate their seats and make their way down all the stairs.

And then my brainwave struck! And more’s the pity it didn’t just knock me out there and then, but I digress.

I merrily went skipping down all the stairs to the central horizontal passage, and turning to face my Giant Rat and our friend G, I shouted to hubby to run and jump and I would catch him! Oi vey! I must have left my sign at home that day.

Well, he ran and jumped. I tried my utmost to catch him, but you do the math. One short-arsed 4ft11 midget who was also horribly underweight at the time trying to catch a strappingly robust and healthy 6ftplus giant who had come hurtling down heaven knows how many stairs at a speed.

You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know how it turned out! The minute I was struck by the giant projectile we both went tumbling down the lower stairs until we came to a complete halt with me on the ground below my Rat. I remember having all the stuffing knocked out of me along with my breath, and even after the great weight had lifted I still lay there stunned before I was eventually able to get up with the help of my Rat and G.

Strangely enough, I was able to jump up on the back of the bike and still head off to the beachfront for our usual habit of ending off the evening with coffee. I felt like a bus had run over me in the early hours of Sunday morning, but put it down to being really badly bruised which I was. It was only when I got the most horrendous agonising pains trying to breathe that I suspected I had something more serious than severe bruising, and toodling off to my GP on the Monday morning (and I might add, walking like I had sat on a rather large carrot), I was sent for x-rays which confirmed his initial diagnosis that I had cracked a couple of ribs.

Hehehe, luckily (for me) my GP knew me very well so instead of giving me a lecture, he simply taped me up and gave me a script for pain killers whilst peering at me over the rims of his specs and shaking his head. A wise man he was 🙂