So I started a social group for married, gay, straight, striped people in this 50-plus age group, which I call the Rowdy Wrinkles. You can find us on a Facebook, but make sure you also join the closed group by the same name so you don’t miss seeing event posts!
Like so many of my bad ideas that initially sound incredible to me, this idea goes in that category with my other impulsive and really bad ideas.
But anyway, I invited any Rowdy Wrinkles who felt extra rowdy last Sunday evening to meet me at the roller-skating rink in Franklin.
One guy was doing so great that he was a blur, gliding across that shiny, might-as-well-be-concrete floor. When he fell that was a blur too, except when he finally managed to get back to his feet.
I have not seen the bruises on his butt and back, but I hear from his family that his injuries look a lot like the state of Florida.
Only moments after that Rowdy Wrinkle’s horrendous fall, I also wiped out.
But my fall was not a blur. Mine was in slow motion, involuntarily watching my skates roll away from each other until I did the splits.
Then my life flashed before my eyes as I tried to crawl off the floor. I nearly ended up with a bunch of skate wheel marks all over my back.
Did I have enough sense to unlace my skates, you might ask.
Why no, I did not.
And so, an hour later, I managed to fall backward while … ready for this? I fell backward while STANDING STILL!
By Tuesday my left wrist was so swollen it looked like I was growing an extra knee on top of my hand.
It didn’t take long at all for this whining wrinkle to make my way to the hospital emergency room.
The radiologist insisted that my wrist was severely sprained.
One of the nurses whispered that there was absolutely no way that it could be so bruised and swollen without a fracture somewhere.
My arm was splinted from the elbow to the fingertips, and I went home, knowing that I would never again roller-skate unless I duct taped my couch cushions all over my body.
The next morning the ER doctor called. Another radiologist had taken a peek at the X-rays. Yes, my wrist was broken.
I am still waiting for the cast.
But I also need to fill you in on the fact that I have suffered additional mishaps since I don’t have the use of both hands.
For example, the first morning as I struggled to get dressed for work, I pulled my dentures right out of my mouth. When I bit into my shirt sleeve to pull it down without moving my wrist, my teeth went flying.
Because I cannot zip or button or tie any articles of clothing, I will be wearing the same skirt and two tops all week to work.
Sunday afternoon I thought I could balance a bowl of chili on top of my left hand while I reached for a spoon. That did not work out well. I ended up not only wearing the chili but also dropping the bowl on top of my foot.
I am still not a bit sorry though, for going roller-skating.
It maybe wasn’t one of my better ideas. But I was out there and I was laughing …
I still am laughing, even though I am also making up some new cuss words.
Sherri Coner is an award-winning journalist and humor writer who speaks to women’s groups. To learn about her books for women and to join her on Facebook, visit www.sherriconer.com.