Do not turn 41!

Paula told me a year ago that once you hit 40, stuff started to go wrong.  Well, my 40th year was no big deal...no major injuries or any surgeries.  In fact nothing really went wrong at all, so I figured that maybe Paula just had a pinch of bad luck and that not every 40 year old was destined to have stuff fall apart.

Enter age 41.

A couple of weeks ago, I attended the Women of Faith conference as I mentioned in a previous post.  Something you should probably know about me....I am a bit of klutz...well, a lot of a klutz.  If there is a way for me to trip over my own feet, I will find a way to do it...I can probably even manage it while lying down, that is how good I am.

Robyn and I elected to go swimming in the hotel indoor pool the Friday night in DC after the conference.  So, I donned a swimsuit and a towel and as I am so not about the shoes, I headed to the elevator to go to the 4th floor where the pool was located.  We arrived there at 10:00 and were informed that the pool closes at 10:30, but hey, we had thirty minutes and we enjoyed our swim.

We dried off as best we could and headed back to the elevator at 10:30, hit the button for the 12th floor and chatted on our way up.

Did I mention the elevator floors were marble?

Did I mention we were both dripping water?

The elevator stopped on our floor (thankfully we were the only people in the elevator!) and as I went to move...well, remember those cartoons from your childhood when someone is slipping on something and the sound effects dude makes that sound of feet struggling to get their footing on a slippery surface?  Yeah, well, that's what happened.

I ended up on the floor, slamming my not so good knee on the marble floor, where I proceeded to mumble some rather un-christian like words fitting for a girl at a Women of Faith conference.  As I put my hand on the floor to get back up, my hand ended up in another puddle of water and again, my hand slipped, jamming my thumb back in a way that did not feel natural.

But I survived and though a bit sore the next day, especially my thumb, the rest of the weekend was uneventful.

Now, let me digress a moment. 

A week later, I was in a little accident that threw me forward into the steering wheel where I sustained some pretty colorful bruises along my cleavage  line.  We're talking purple and they seemed to worsten a little each day.  A few days after the incident, I found a lump in my breast right near the bruising and it was rather large.  I felt/feel certain that this is a result of my injury and in doing a little internet research I found this:

Injury -- sometimes if your breast is badly bruised, there will be a collection of blood that feels like a lump. These tend to resolve on their own in a matter of days or weeks. If not, the blood may have to be drained by your doctor.

So, I have that going on still.  Then  yesterday, the Brit grabbed hold of my wrist in the car and it hurt.  Reaching over to rub it, I noticed what felt to be a piece of bone beneath the skin that is not supposed to be there.  It's like a hard bump on the side of my wrist and it is definately tender.  Did I splinter something in DC that I didn't know about?  I'd like to think that this bump has not been there the last three weeks since we've come home or I'd of noticed it sooner as it's one of those things where once you know it is there, you don't forget it is there.  I'm feeling the stupid thing every couple of minutes (which is way better than feeling the other lump every couple of minutes as people might start to talk.).  So, I see the doctor on Monday about my wrist but as this is not my normal female doctor, I don't know if I want to address the other lump too.  It just makes sense right?  I mean, I bruised things up, and then this thing appears and it's big.   I would think a lump of great concern would start out small. 

Ugh.  Do not turn 41.