“Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that we just experienced an unexpected crash!” With a few pained screams for good measure, that was my situation last Saturday afternoon.
One of my favorite pastimes is jumping on my trampoline. Let me rephrase that: my more-worn-out-than-I-thought trampoline. Up and down, around and around, peace and quiet, exercise and inspiration. It’s great.
Or at least it was great until the moment when I jumped up and, as I came back down, the mat simply wasn’t there.
Sometimes the Ground Disappears
I don’t really remember what happened. I’ve got a few flashy memories of the ground spinning around the sky, a dark edge coming at my face, and a screaming, tearing pain in my knee.
I do know that there’s a long gash in the middle of my trampoline mat.
Which leads me to deduce that the surface had grown threadbare without looking like it, and that when I came down that last time, it finally just gave way and split in half.
Given the list of bodily pains, I think I landed mostly on my left leg, which was wrenched out from under me as the mat split, pitching me forward, so that when I fell through, I landed on my right arm/shoulder.
- My knee didn’t break — which is what I thought had happened right at first.
- Nothing else broke, either.
- I did manage to crawl out from under the trampoline and stagger back to the house on my own — which was a good thing, since no one heard me scream.
- I got some medicine on my injuries fast enough that I didn’t visibly bruise!
Granted, I spent a couple of days hobbling around with a cane…
But overall, I’m very grateful. It could have been a lot worse. Which leads to the thing I’m most proud of.
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