Yesterday during my morning workout, I had one of those weird things happen to me. I had my arms behind me resting on an exercise ball and was doing tricep dips. If an instructor ever asks you to do this, don't! I didn't like this exercise the last two times I did it. This time I shouldn't have done it at all. Suddenly I felt a POP and a severe pain. I clutched my chest and was crawling around the floor. People assumed I was having a different kind of chest pain. I knew it wasn't my heart. I felt like I was a chicken carcass that had been cracked open.
Believe it or not, I kept working out for a while. I was fine until I put pressure on my chest muscles. I knew I needed to leave. Turns out I've separated the cartilage connecting my ribs to my breastbone. I'm pretty sure the breastbone is connected to the wishbone. I'm also pretty sure I got the short end of it when it broke. After spending all morning trying to get someone to see me ("Uh, we just do backs and necks"), I was told what I'd already learned on the Internet. There was nothing to do but rest and wait for it to heal.
When my dh spent the day at the ballgame, golfing, and dining out with his buddy, I was pretty sure it was the wish bone I'd irritated. I WISHed he would come home and help me. When my 2yo peed on the kitchen table and dug into leftover birthday cake, I WISHed I could just jump in the tub and the nanny would put the kids to bed. She's been noticeably absent by the way.
Turns out I got one of my wishes. I've been wishing my dh would buy me roses for the longest time. Well, when he realized how he'd left me in a predicament (yes, I helped him figure this out), he bought me a dozen roses. Doesn't God work in mysterious ways?
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