Chronicles of Kneernia
The End? Not so much.* * *
Sonofabitch.
Thursday night during the Big Yellow Bus, I did a jumping kick to support the move of Jorin, who was playing a soldier of Blood Squad Alpha. I landed badly, felt a pair of pops in my left knee and tumbled to the ground. During the rest of the scene, I just laid there, clenching my teeth and breathing deeply.
Oh man. My knee. Oh man.
It didn't hurt. In fact it was slightly tingly bordering on numb. As Jorin did some sort of justification bit, I just laid there, trying to gather myself.
It's the next scene? Dammit.
I wasn't sure if I should move yet, so I slowly pulled myself forward once or twice, meowing like a cat every so often.
Ok. Ok. Slowly work your way off stage...dammit, another scene.
After laying still for a bit, I pulled forward. Then, hearing a scene opportunity, I just rolled over and played an interpreter in the scene, albeit one laying on the ground.
Edited! Get off. Get off. Almost there...phew.
I chanced standing up.
My left knee slid all over the place.
Fuck me.
I rolled over, set myself against the wall by the entrance and sat out the remainder of the show...just sitting on the floor and looking up at Matt Larsen, that night's host, standing in the wings.
* * *
After the show, I got pulled up into a chair by the entrance and chatted with the performers about my knee. Kat went to get her car to drive me to the hospital. Meanwhile, I bid goodnight to the patrons as they filed out. I even tried to hold the sponsorship meeting I had planned with that night's opening ensemble, The Riot! After a certain point I'm sure I was just babbling and they went off to do their own thing. Even though I was doing bits and making conversation, my mind was already locked in on one thing
I have no health insurance. Fuck me.
* * *
At Thorek, the attendant plopped my 300 pound frame into a wheelchair. He then promptly wheeled my bad leg into a wall. No shit. I laughed through my grimace. Of course I'd get my leg banged up more at the hospital. Heightening!
--Doing a bit for Gotsick's cameraphone--
Kat and I did bits, joked with the staff and listened in on the other cases being attended. I wasn't in pain, just discomfort; my knee felt bloated on the inside, but no real pain. Hell, I was sending text messages to pass the time. Eventually, a doc came and looked at my knee and confirmed what I thought--probable ACL injury.
Fuck.
I told Kat to go home since I had no idea how long I would be there waiting for X-Rays and whatnot. The X-Rays came back fine, I was given an immobilizer, crutches and a prescription for Vicodin (which I haven't turned in or used because I'm not in pain, well, not in my kneeball, but my armpits chafe something fierce). I took a cab home, crawled assfirst up three flights of narrow stairs in the dark, sent some e-mails out to friends, then crashed on my couch since my bed is in a loft and slept fitfully to the noises of drunk gay men and party girls yapping the night away.
posted by Sammy @ 9:24 PM
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