I'm not entirely sure anybody actually read this, but....I was feeling talkative and thought I'd come here (talking to my walls does me no good except to work out my vocal cords. After last night's football game, they need a rest anyway.) :)

I've officially made it through my first Saturday in three weeks without an injury. Two weekends ago I got to go to Celebrate Freedom, hear some incredible artists, and hang out with some incredible friends (Casey, Jesse, Mattie, Raymond, John, Hannah, Ansleigh, Ivy, and Corbin....you are phenomenal!). I was vaguely aware of my lack of sunscreen when I left the apartment, but figured I could just find some shade and perhaps only receive some minor pinkness. I even contemplated going back home to get it, but it took me 20 minutes just to turn on the road that took me to the parking lot (well, parking field), so I figured I'd just suffer through it (suffer being the operative word.) The concert was held in the arena. Unfortunately (for me), they don't make a habit of putting shade in an arena, as said shade may trip the horses. We parked in a field that they had just opened up for us. You should know that they began parking people in the far back corner of the field; we were the eleventh car from the corner. After hiking forever to get to the event, we hung out for a while and had a pretty good time. Sunburn began to show up mid-afternoon (along with possible signs of dehydration, heat exhaustion, whatever. I'm tough.)

By Sunday morning I was the approximate color of a tomato (Don't believe me? Check out my photo-progression over the last two weeks at www.myspace.com/soyperdonada ...I would post them here, but I'm not smart enough. If you are reading this and know how, I'd appreciate a tutorial.) I decided to leave off the makeup and just answer the questions (there were lots of them) at church. Later in the week I finally went to the doctor (about something else), and asked him for something (in pill or ointment form) that may offer relief. He gave me both. By Friday of last week I was almost back to my normal, non-flaking color. (This is after the cycles of redness, scaling, cracking, and greasy ointment that all goes along with sun poisoning.)

So we're back to last Saturday. Katie was having a surprise party, so after getting some things done Saturday morning I went to her aunt and uncle's house. Had a good time, blah blah, prepared to go. The way their house is set up, the porch is actually lower than the back yard. That being said, you have to go up four steps out onto the back yard. The porch is covered and has a rather low clearance at the top of the steps. I noticed this upon my arrival to the party, but the ice cream cake must have given me temporary amnesia. You know how sometimes you'll see what's about to take place just before it happens, but you don't have time to stop it? I never even saw it coming...until I caught the metal rail of the roof square across my nose. Out of instinct rather than good sense, I grabbed the rail to keep myself from falling down the steps while the stars left my view. The gracious hosts rushed to get me ice, lanacaine, and ibuprofen. Gene (a veteran nose breaker) examined my nose and declared it not to be broken.

Off I go home with a bag of ice stuck to my face (this makes for an interesting drive.) I got home, then paranoia kicked in. I live alone. What if I gave myself a concussion and, when I fall asleep, I never wake up? What if I pushed the cartilage from my nose into my brain and have brain swelling yet to be pronounced? What if I get a subdural hematoma (I watch too much ER.) Like a good hypochondriac, I called the nurse line with my insurance company. She advised me that, though there's nothing they can do even if my nose is broken, if my nose is still bleeding after this amount of time (it is) I should go to the ER or possible stitches. "Is there somebody who can drive you?" "Well, yes, but I live a mile from the hospital and could probably walk there before anyone could get here." "Well, that's good, then. Go ahead." Off I go. I had called Stacey and Casey about my injury; they both advised me if I went to the hospital to let them know. I did. They offered to come. I (being the proud sucker I am) told them I could hold ice on my face without assistance, and I would call them if I changed my mind.

When I walked in the ER the clerk looked at me and said, "you definitely need to see a doctor." Ya think? (I still have ice on my face. 20 or so amused onlookers in the ER said nothing...or at least that I could hear.) Mrs. Debra called me and asked me if I was okay. I reported that I was in the ER for possible stitches, to which she replied, "have you called Casey?" (Why she chose Casey I'm not sure--he wasn't at the party, and we have no ties other than being good friends...apparently she sees him as a protector and good ER companion.) I told her we had spoken and that he had offered to come, but I was okay and would call if I needed someone. Her response? "You need someone there. I'm calling Casey. I love you, goodbye." Casey showed up 20 minutes later.

I was feeling pretty safe (albeit humbled that a friend would come sit with me though he could offer no more assistance than a visual examination of my nose). Casey came with me into triage....do you remember the typical questions they ask you in triage?

• What's wrong? (Have you not seen my face?)
• What meds are you on?
• How tall are you? (Tall enough that I didn't miss the roof rail.)
• How much do you weigh? (I mean, really...remember my companion for the evening o' fun.)
• When was your last cycle? (Can we discuss any more sensitive information while I'm here? You haven't asked me my bra size yet.)

Anyhoo, the rest of the evening was relatively uneventful. When the doctor came in, he looked at my nose and said, "hmm. That could be broken," to which I replied, "well, they took x-rays." "Oh, really?" (Did you not order them?) In the end, he said I had a probable hairline fracture and superglued my nose shut (Jeremy said this superglue, by Wednesday night, looked like a booger. Said superglue is now gone.)

The ER called Wednesday afternoon to inform me that my nose was indeed not broken (well this changes everything! Thank you so much for letting me know....now I can go out and cancel my cosmetic surgery.)

All week I've had to endure basically the same comment: "Hey, Ms. Phillips, how's it goi....ohmygah what happened to your face?" (And, from a couple, "were you drinking?" [no, I wasn't. This was all me. I don't drink for several reasons, this being one of them--if I can do this much damage by myself, can you imagine what would happen if I were liquored up? I'm a special kind of clumsy.])

Today I haven't even bumped into anything. The day is pretty much over, so I think (cross your fingers) it may be safe to say I'm good to go....I really need a padded room with a helmet.