Let's face it, it wouldn't be 0ddness without some tale of Mirth & Woe and personal injury to your favorite blogger.  After all, everyone loves a good chuckle at my expense, and as ever, I aim to please.

OK, usually I miss, but still, it's the thought that counts.

Picture the scene... Twas a dark an... No, it was a chilly winters day.  Well, not that chilly actually.  Bit nippy, but the sun was out.  I was outnumbered by them, four to one.  The assault was a constant thing, attack after attack after attack.  I knew I'd fall eventually, but I fought on, valiantly, some might say.

Oh alright, if you're not buying it.  Kellie and myself decided to take the kids out last sunday.  It was a nice day, so we opted for McDonalds, a trip to the park to feed the ducks, geese and swans (and those pesky bread-stealing seagulls), and then a run-around in the adventure playground.  We had all four kids for the rest of the day, so decided we'd trying burning their stupid amounts of energy into something a little more productive.

For those that have zero-understanding of what I am talking about, here is Dominic and Tamsyn (and Jaysen trying to dive for cover behind Dom) modelling part of the playground over at Gloucester Park. I should point out the size comparisons - Tamsyn is 5 and can only JUST get under certain parts.  Dom and Jaysen are 12, and it's "a bit tight" for them up there... 

Boys DO appear on film!
So, I decided to run them around a bit, get their hearts pumping, burn off a little more energy than usual.  Anyone coming down the spiral slide got pinned and tickled - and then dumped on the grass.  Anyone within reach got grabbed through the bars and netting and tickled.  And so on.

The kids, realising they outnumbered me, attempted a full-scale assault, getting brave by coming down, running at me, then fleeing for cover back up on the climbing stuff.  Jaysen, however, being a gobby little git, was keeping out the way as much as possible.  He had been poked and tickled less than the other three, and he knew it.

He also knew I knew.  He knew I knew he knew, and started taunting me.

We all know Marty McFly.  He's a fine, normal, easy-going sort, right up till someone calls him chicken... Well, swap him with me, and swap chicken with phrases like "You wouldn't dare" or "You can't because..."  Jaysen was pushing these buttons, and I waited till he was JUST out of the safety zone, and charged after him.  He panicked and ran hell-for-leather back towards safety.

Part of the park has this kinda steps-upward-with-a-rope thing going on.  A steep slope with some steps, and a fixed rope to help the kids pull themselves up the steps.  Jaysen went for that entrance, and I decided at that point he was NOT getting away.  So I am sprinting at my son, who is screaming like a girl.  He flies up the steps, knowing that actual DEATH is on his heels.  I put one foot on the first step and fire myself - already running at sprinting speed - upwards, grabbing hand outstretched. 

In the same instant, two things happened.  Firstly, I made contact with my sons leg.  Gotcha, I almost thought, because at the very same moment, my body - moving, you may recall, at Mach 3 - stopped very abruptly against the rope.  The rope, I later discovered, is actual ROPE with a steel core.

Have you ever seen a full grown man go from mach 3 to zero mph in the blink of an eye?  Have you ever seen a man travelling at such speeds use his ribcage for brakes?

Still clutching my screaming sons trouser leg, I realise two things.  I am not actually breathing, and his death throes are making me hurt more.  So, after trying to figure out what I needed to do, I release him and stumble backwards

And I am still not breathing.  I've not been winded for many, many years, and I realise now that I do not like it, not one bit.  Breathing, I realise, is something I actually enjoy and look forward to on a moment-by-moment basis.

So I am trying to get air into my lungs - and failing - and the kids, well, the kids smell blood.  Jaysen is up on top of his Cowards Palace mocking me as he "escaped", and the other three move in for the kill.

Between creasing up with laughter at seeing my eyes bulge and my voice using the last of my precious air to say "Can't... Breathe!" Kellie gets the three kids attempting to mow me down to retreat a bit.

After about an hour (or a couple of dozen seconds maybe) I manage to get this great big lungful of air.  My relief at returning to one of my favourite hobbies - breathing - is short-lived, however, as no sooner do my lungs inflate, than my braking-chest protests and being filled up so quickly.

Four kids and a fiancee pissing themselves in laughter at my expression made me feel so much better, the oozing sympathy from them was brilliant.  With the spots clearing from my eyes, the pain felt a bit less, and we headed home, the game over due to near-death-experience.

I really really wish I could say that is the end of the tale, however.  The dull ache in my ribs - on the right side, just under my manboob - went from "dull ache" to "quite sore" to "that hurts" to "ow ow ow" over the space of twelve hours.  I was up and down all night in pain, hurt to move, hurt to breathe, hurt to roll over in bed, hurt to lay down, hurt to get up...  The following morning it was really hurting, and trying to get dressed made Kellie laugh even harder.  Which made me laugh, which really hurt.

So for the last few days, I've been trying to be careful, but it's amazing how much you use that area of your body.  Moving my right arm past certain points really hurts.  Sneezing is agony.  Coughing - and I am still coughing from my bout of ManFlu over Crimbo - is like being stabbed with each cough.  Even trying to take a deep, relaxing breathe hurts.  So my coughing sounds and breathing in makes people laugh even harder, which makes me laugh even harder which makes me want to cry.

This morning (and I am writing this on Friday) I went to the doctors for completely unrelated stuff, and told him what I had done.  He had a poke and a prod and said it sounds and feels like I've cracked a couple of ribs, and that it'll be painful for a couple of weeks, but if it still hurts after that, then to go back as it might need "sorting out" whatever that might mean...

So there we have it.  Nine days into 2011, and I have suffered my first injury.  Not too shabby really.  I'd like to thank the following people for all their sympathy...

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3 Responses to “Winded”

The HoJo's said...

thanks for the giggle :o) oh, I mean, get well soon!


Jaysen said...


The HoJo's said...

ha hahaha haha too funny :o) such a sympathetic bunch of friends :oD