. . . and also my incredible luck.
At craft group a few days later, my story-telling self decided this was a tale worth telling, embarrassing or not. So I told it, a little dramatically, of course. And I laughed about the ridiculousness of it all. And my craft group buddies laughed with me.
Cut to Saturday: The basement proper was completely painted, and in preparation for painting the guest bedroom in the basement, I created this deathtrap with a bedframe and a staircase.
I experienced the fall in slow-motion, but I'm a little hazy about the details, since I can't quite figure out how I ended up head-down, but face-up, and dangling from my favorite boot which was caught on that bedframe corner. The top of my head was only inches from that very hard wall at the bottom of the stairs.
Here's where the luck comes in:
1) My mom was there. Yay! I didn't even have to pretend to summon my incredible will. One look at the blood was all I got before she had paper towels and pressure and everything under control.
2) Residency life comes with the perks of knowing the telephone number of 80 gazillion incredibly helpful doctors.
3) The doctor I called was not only willing to look at my hand to see if I did need stitches, he actually had a suture kit right there in his kitchen. (Thanks, Jake! Thanks SOOO much.) That saved a billion dollars and 37 hours at the urgent care with 17 kids in tow. (I'm only slightly exaggerating.)
4) I fell down an entire flight of steps and walked away with only three stitches, along with a dozen scrapes, quite a few bruises, and a big helping of lost dignity. How's that for lucky?