October 21st



I almost had the sonuvabitch.

Sunday afternoon DeVil & CB came over and brought me a pick up truck of firewood. We unloaded and stacked it and then I did them a London Broil, garlic mashed taters and steamed veggie dinner and we sat around chatting about this and that. It wasn't too late when we all walked out back of the house to say good night. I turned the corner of the house and saw a fellow in a bright red jacket sitting in my car. He jumped out and ran and without thinking I was racing barefoot down the pavement after him. I launched myself flying at him and grasped his collar but then flew off. I hit the 3" steel fencepost to my backyard chain link fence at full speed, horizontal, taking the impact of my 255 pounds at speed right in my left rib cage. When I hit the ground I took out three trash cans and hit and rolled in some dirt and gravel and muck a bit. The thief was down the alley and then had the balls to turn around and come back, brandishing my K-Bar he had stolen from the car, with one hand pulling his jacket up over the bottom of his face, saying, "You want some of this, motherfucker?" By that time I had recovered to my feet and CB was standing between the thief and I. We yelled at each other a moment and then the guy took off.

As I walked back up to the house and coached DeVil in her cell call to 911, CB asked me if I was ok and I told him straight up, "No". Over the next few minutes as the endorphins wore off I realized I was hurt, and hurt beyond the obvious blood from gouges and abrasions and lacerations and stuff. My left ribs were aching. The very helpful and polite officer took the three of us a few blocks over to look at a possible offender that another squad car had detained, but it was the wrong guy. He then suggested several times that I let him call for EMS, and I was hurting more and more so I let the guys on the local engine company come by and check my BP and put gauze over all the major oozing places.

I tried to get in my car to drive over to the local hospital, but I was screaming in pain every time I moved in any direction - the damn ribs. CB & DeVil encouraged me to get in their pick up - I didn't have to duck to get in the cab, which helped - and they drove me to the hospital and waited from 9 p.m. til midnight when I was discharged. I can't thank them enough for standing by me, including when CB stood up with me to the fellow with the knife. Good people, finest kind.

The toradol shot they gave me in the ER took much of the edge off [I told the doc that after the shot it then only hurt if I breathed or moved...]. I told them I wanted no narcotics and toradol is an injectable NSAID. No buzz, no high, but the pain goes away. In this case much of the pain went away unless I moved wrong or suddenly. He diagnosed fractured rib, with abrasions on both hands and arms and knees and one foot, my right thumb is black and blue and stiffening up, and my left knee is stiff and double sized. I also got dirt and blood all over my Wet Spot In Paradise tshirt. I called work and recorded a message about 1 a.m. that I might or might not be in this morning according to how I felt. It's noon now and I haven't decided how I feel - everything from last night still hurts but my head is a bit clearer and the bad pain isn't quite as bad. The stiffness and aches and the sting of the cuts are still omnipresent.

The guy got a $3 pair of reading glasses from their pick up and a knife I'd had with me for over 20 years from my car, and if caught will be charged with assault with a deadly weapon. He ignored a couple of blockbuster movies that I had on the front seat to return, he missed the keys in the ignition of the truck, he missed a bunch of stuff he could have made a buck off of. Doesn't seem like he made a thoughtful decision in his career choices.

For me, I'm not only hurt, but I'm violated. I still have to put everything back together in my car that he messed up. I've lived here for 4 1/2 years and have never had to lock my car, and for that matter have never had to lock the door to my house. That innocence is now gone, and I'm more angry about that than about the loss.

Check back with me in a few days - I should have a better idea of how much sincere one of my 'life is good' tag lines will be then.

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