So, I'm sitting in the peace and quiet about 6 am last Sunday morning. Having some coffee and reading Sic 'em Sports. I hear this constant what I think is dripping water in my attic. I go up to investigate. I work my way over near my daughter's room. I realize that its not dripping, its her ceiling fan junction box tapping on a stud. I turn to go, and....
Through her ceiling I go. The left leg goes through and the right one is hung over a rafter. A forced Chinese split with 50 year old hamstrings. I'm hung between the rafters with my injured right shoulder in the exact worst position possible, rotated and elbow forced up. Worse, my left leg is in the ceiling fan. Its on high. My daughter wakes below me and screams. You know, because a skydiver in black boxer briefs is about to land on her. I fight backwards, getting out of the fan and trying to get pressure off the shoulder, busting sheetrock as I go. Until I hit a beam. That brought me to a quick stop. My wife hears the crashing, the screaming, the fan taking bites out of my leg like a great white shark with big dull teeth, and is yelling "Where are you?!" "I'm in Claire's room!", I whimper. "Bring the ladder!" Claire adds. Between the two of them they push up on my foot and give me some leverage to get my arms unhung. I kick the sheet rock the rest of the way out, extricate my right leg and drop to the floor. Here's the carnage:
Most of this redness turns into a fairly interesting mosaic of summer blues, haunting yellows, meadow purples and some moody blacks. By late afternoon, I'm pretty sure the second rib from the bottom is broken. Well, I mean I could have suddenly gotten both emphysema and esophageal spasms at the same time, but I'm thinking the broken rib is more likely.
So, what did I do? If I had been an Aggie, I would have called my big brother or all the tough guys in my neighbor to come help me. If I had been a Longhorn, I'd have called a contractor and laid down on my faux leather massage chair and cried like a bitch. But, I'm a Baylor Bear. I sucked it up. Went to Home Depot. Took my broken rib and jacked up shoulder and hung me some freaking drywall.
Sic 'em Bears!!
Through her ceiling I go. The left leg goes through and the right one is hung over a rafter. A forced Chinese split with 50 year old hamstrings. I'm hung between the rafters with my injured right shoulder in the exact worst position possible, rotated and elbow forced up. Worse, my left leg is in the ceiling fan. Its on high. My daughter wakes below me and screams. You know, because a skydiver in black boxer briefs is about to land on her. I fight backwards, getting out of the fan and trying to get pressure off the shoulder, busting sheetrock as I go. Until I hit a beam. That brought me to a quick stop. My wife hears the crashing, the screaming, the fan taking bites out of my leg like a great white shark with big dull teeth, and is yelling "Where are you?!" "I'm in Claire's room!", I whimper. "Bring the ladder!" Claire adds. Between the two of them they push up on my foot and give me some leverage to get my arms unhung. I kick the sheet rock the rest of the way out, extricate my right leg and drop to the floor. Here's the carnage:
Most of this redness turns into a fairly interesting mosaic of summer blues, haunting yellows, meadow purples and some moody blacks. By late afternoon, I'm pretty sure the second rib from the bottom is broken. Well, I mean I could have suddenly gotten both emphysema and esophageal spasms at the same time, but I'm thinking the broken rib is more likely.
So, what did I do? If I had been an Aggie, I would have called my big brother or all the tough guys in my neighbor to come help me. If I had been a Longhorn, I'd have called a contractor and laid down on my faux leather massage chair and cried like a bitch. But, I'm a Baylor Bear. I sucked it up. Went to Home Depot. Took my broken rib and jacked up shoulder and hung me some freaking drywall.
Sic 'em Bears!!
