If it weren't for bad luck

I'd have none at all. Even though I know this, I still bought a Powerball lottery ticket this week. It should come as no surprise that I didn't win.

Today we did a little power shopping for light fixtures. I needed 2 ceiling fixtures and a chandelier for the dining room. While at the lighting store, I picked up some battery operated task lights that I thought could augment the kitchen lighting as I have nothing except the center fixture and we all know that we can pretty much kiss daylight goodbye tonight. I can't live in the dark any longer.

From there we headed off to the mall to try and get into the Apple store. It was so crowded they were taking reservations just to get in the door. No mind, we headed off the The North Face instead. If I'm going to continue this late night hospice career, I'm not going to freeze my ass off doing so. I scored a beautiful coat that can convert to handle anything winter has to dish out to me this year. It's three coats in one depending on whether you wear the quilted down lining by itself, or just the outer shell or when it's really cold, combine the two. It's perfect.

Back home, and I promise, here is where my bad luck story gets good (or bad, depending how you look at this), I started knitting my brother's Christmas present. He asked for something to keep his tea warm this winter in his home on the Lake Erie shore and I'm obliging him. I found this pattern on Ravelry, it's free and it's lovely. The yarn is free, too, since I'm knitting it in Galway that I had in the stash. That's free, right?

Anyways, the pattern is fiddly and full of errors, but I was making headway. I promised myself if I got through the first pattern repeat, I could get up and make a cup of tea. I set my knitting aside and got immediately distracted by my still packaged task lights. Off I went to the kitchen to set the first one up. Getting it out of the package was hard, so I looked for a knife to help me. All the sharp ones were in the dishwasher so I fished in there for the right one, opened the package without self injury and attached the light to the underside of the cabinet.

Ta-da! Perfection. And so easy!

I backed up to admire my handiwork and fell ass over tea kettle when I bumped into the still open door of the dishwasher. It was a surreal fall. I knew what was happening, but in the tight squeeze that doubles as my kitchen, there weren't many options on how I was going down. How I managed to hurt BOTH of my wrists, I don't know. I had a goose egg, which is now a bruise on my left radius, and this is the wound that had me howling. The right didn't hurt until my husband tried to pull me up by that hand. It's not that it wasn't immediately injured, it's because the brain can only process so many pain messages at once and it was busy with my squeaky wheel of a left wrist. It crossed my mind for a fleeting moment that if both hands were casted, I couldn't knit. I couldn't wipe my own behind, either, but that wasn't my first thought.

I have a sneaking suspicion the right wrist is fractured. It's not swollen or deformed, but I cannot flex or extend it without feeling exquisitely sharp pain that starts the wrist, moves deep into my thumb then shoots up my forearm . There are, approximately, 800,000 bones in the wrist. I just know in my heart that one of them, probably that pain in the butt and hard to heal scaphoid bone is likely cracked.

For my pragmatic friends, don't worry...the dishwasher is fine.