| THE ACCIDENT |
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| Accidents happen: January 18th, 2003. A particularly cold day in Estes Park, CO. (Where the Shining was filmed, as well as scenes from Dumb and Dumber) Ben and I decided to get some cheap sleds from Walmart and go sledding for the day. As you can see, we were totally bundled up. Little did I know that this would be my last day to wear my World Industries sweater, as later that evening it would have to be cut off me so the EMT's could access my veins. (Incidentally, it has come to my attention that, at a glance, my beanie appears to read "SuperCock". In fact, it says "SuperGirl". Sorry for any confusion that may have caused.) Below is Ben on the drive up, looking optimistic about the turnout for the day. |
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| The Scene of the Crime: Upon arrival at the sledding area, dubbed Hidden Valley, we were given two options. The hill guaranteed not to hurt anyone, which was covered with soft fluffy snow and the trees at the bottom were lined with hay bales. Then there was the hill of probable death, as seen here. Ben and I took one look at each other and skipped right past that wussy kiddie hill. This picture clearly shows the two rogue mogels that would later be my ultimate downfall. (Where the man brandishing his buttocks for the camera is standing.) |
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| The last picture: This, unfortunately, was the last picture taken that day. This is me going down the hill a split second before I launched off mogel #1 into the air and came down on mogel #2, effectively pinching my first lumbar vertebrae into a nice soda pop can ready for recycling. You can see by my hunched over posture exactly why and where I broke myself. As a side note, Ben has proven once again his inability to pass as a photographer, having barely gotten me in the picture instead of the chump carrying an inner tube in front of him. In my stupor of pain immediately following the accident, EMT's came and put me in a body bag which they zipped up to my chin. I asked Ben to take a picture of this, but perhaps he was concerned for my dignity and chose not to. Preserving my dignity turned out to be an exercise in futility, however, during my hospital stay. On several different occasions I shouted random morphine, valium, vicodin, and toridol infused rants to anyone who would listen. And, worst of all, at one point my mother came in, having flown in from Texas, and I awoke from my coma to greet her by telling her she smelled of cat pee. To my chagrin, |
| the source of the smell later turned out to be my catheter, which had been hastily reattached to the bag by one of the nurses and had since been piddling a constant stream of my own urine onto the hospital floor. I have since come to understand that human beings are, by nature, not intended to have any real dignity. |
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| February 18: This is me most recently, modeling Milan's newest line of Spring fashion, the body brace. I will be wearing this ugly ass thing for upwards of 10 weeks. No the funbags don't really hang down to my belly button, the brace just pushes them down in a most unbecoming way. When I take it off to shower they spring right back into place. Marvelously resilient little buggers they are. Now you can see why I wouldn't want to go out in public dressed like this. I was hoping to get copies of my grotesque x-rays to post on this site, but after telling me that I was entitled to ownership of such materials, the hospital offered to charge me a $75 fee to make photocopies (which usually run 10 cents each) of my x-rays. Personally, I think they implanted me with something while I was unconscious for a week straight and didn't want it to show up on the x-ray. I am now probably a multi-million dollar fighting machine operated with a remote control device implanted in my skull that will help the government to assasinate the leaders of every middle eastern country one by one. |