I am grossly prone to falling, tripping, cutting, burning, and breaking. I have crashed nearly everything I’ve ridden or driven and I am capable of tripping over a flat surface. One time I was walking across the parking lot at St. Vincent’s, tripped, and fell into the box I was carrying. Yes, into. I’ve rolled my ankle so many times I barely notice it anymore. Oh, and I tripped a couple weeks ago walking up a wheelchair ramp and mangled the inside of my arm and bruised my knee. Unfortunately, this same knee, I’m pretty sure has a shattered kneecap due to a graceful move five years ago. I’m pretty sure it shattered because it’s not there anymore. Don’t believe me? Ask me and I’ll show you. Yep, that time I was walking down the stairs thought I’d hit the last step, but surprise, surprise there was one left. You see it was in an old building with a massive wooden door that had probably been standing for 30 or 40 years. It was quality product. Well, when I landed with all my weight on my knee against the door something was bound to give and it sure wasn’t going to be the damn door that had been standing for the last three or four decades. Goodbye kneecap. It bruised, swelled, and was sore to the touch for about three months. Did I see a doctor you ask? Hell no. We don’t DO doctors in my family. We walk it off. Even if the walk is a little gimpy for awhile. Well, if those two incidents, not to mention the hundreds of other times I’ve landed on that knee when I either slipped, tripped, or crashed wasn’t enough. I’m pretty sure I partially dislocated it Sunday. If the previous injuries hadn’t done so this certainly insures long-term arthritis. You want to know what makes it more obnoxious an incident? It’s not as though I have some grandiose story explaining the injury. I wasn’t skiing the Swiss Alps, hell I wasn’t even skiing Eaglecrest. Nope. I was getting into the freakin’ car. Yep, that’s right. I was getting into the car. My shoe slipped. Then sure shit my knee popped right out or in, inward toward the other knee when it bent unnaturally that way. I have a fairly high threshold for pain, but I may have dropped the F word a time or ten and even shed a tear, maybe two. The balance of my accident-prone self? I’m a fast healer. My bruises disappear rapidly, the elbow I dislocated and was told would never straighten does (never wasn’t an option), and the gimpy knee I’m getting around on now? Well, it’s still gimpy, but like I said I’ll walk it off.