Adding Insult to Injury

I'm recovering from a burn I got two weeks ago. Spilled a hot cup of coffee that was resting on my lap. The scar above my navel is fading.

On Thursday, I mowed the front yard. It was too late in the day and still much too hot to attempt mowing the back half.

At bedtime, I became disoriented while heading in the dark for the bathroom. My slipper fell off when it met with the back door mat. I fell - really hard - on my bottom. At least, that's what I think happened. I couldn't figure out where I landed; in the bedroom, bathroom, or hallway. A good five minutes passed before I tried to get myself up.

I realized that the hard, cold surface I had touched was the toilet. Ew! I imagine there's an enormous bruise blooming on my coccyx. Even using a hand mirror, I could not check myself out. (Is mt butt really that big)? Smaller bruises on my right wrist and left hand were quick to appear.

If anyone sees me walking strangely, or getting out of a chair very carefully, that bruise is only part of the reason.

While recovering from the shock of this spectacular fall, I realized that:

1. I have osteoporisis and osteopenia, so this event became a wake up call. I was fortunate not to have broken anything.
2. My phone was in another room. If I had broken anything, how could I call for help?
3. Maybe it's time for me to wear the "I've fallen and I can't get up" people.
4. Even if I could call for help, would I have the presence of mind to tell them where I'd hidden my spare keys? I imagine any help would break down my door.
5. Aging sucks!

On Friday when I ventured outside, I decided I could let the back yard's grass grow for another day or two. I would weed the pachysandra of unwanted vines, pine cones, and twigs. It was going fine until... 

...I discovered a hornet's nest. They stung my hands through my garden gloves and feasted (through my socks) on my ankles. The tree where the nest was located at the base of a pecan tree. Most of the unwanted vines were wrapped around that tree. So I whooped and hollered as I slapped at my feet and at the gloves some bees were stuck in. 

The outdoors is overrated. After I got inside, I glared out the window at the offending area.

I've had run-ins with a hornets' nest once before. Years ago, I noticed bees around my front door, and I let them be. That was, until the day I was stung by five from the hive I could not see. An exterminator removed the hive from behind the house's aluminum siding.

What I'll do with this current bunch of buzzing menaces remains to be seen. For now, I just won't venture around that area. Maybe we can share the same space through the fall.

So, anyway, today I'm a hurting pup. Icing my extremities and popping Advil. There's nothing much I can do about my bruises except move around gingerly.

As of Sunday, one bite on my left ankle keeps reminding me of the danger of traipsing through the pachysandra. My right index finger still resembles a sausage. 

Nature can be a Mother!!!