Tailbone Trauma

We are back from our summer vacation adventures.  It was nice to get away, visit family, and have some fun.  Rather than try to pack it all into one big long post, I'm going to 

s p r e a d   i t   o u t . . . 

making the blogging of it all less overwhelming and time consuming.

The biggest thing on my mind today:  my aching tailbone.

It's a long story, so let me be brief.  (Hah!)

One of the items on my Utah bucket list was to take Mar to Lagoon.  Back in the day when I had a plethora of young-ish children around, we made a trip to an amusement park an annual event.  Whether it was Elitch Gardens (our local amusement park, once part of the Six Flags family), Lagoon, Disneyland,  Universal Studios, or Disney World, we made sure to get a visit in fairly regularly.

Then the larger group of young-ish children became old-ish, and either left home or selected to occasionally attend the local amusement park with friends.  Bill and I, in our even older-ish age, have had a marked reduction in our desire to be spun, bounced, catapulted, and jerked.  

Hard to believe, since it all sounds so {fun}.

On Friday, we met up with Jill, Stan, and Hannah, and headed off to Lagoon.

Mar's first stop:

We worked our way from the south end of the park over to the water rides, figuring a refresher would be in order for the middle of the day.

After hitting nearly every ride on the way (minus the kiddie rides... for the first time EVER), we arrived at the line for Rattlesnake Rapids.  It wound around and down, past several gift shops, far, far away from the actual entrance to the ride.  In the hopes that it would move quickly and a cool-down from the heat of the day was just around the corner (literally), we got in line.  

The line moved slowly.  The shade was limited.  We watched as groups walked by, freshly off the ride.  We commented on how SOME people were drenched, and others were quite dry.  We longed for a cool-down, but none of us really wanted to get wet-wet -- you know -- wet clothes + a lot of walking =  chafing uncomfortableness.  

We were sweltering by the time it was our turn to walk the revolving platform to our tube.  We all got seated and headed on our way down the rapids.

Right away a splash came over the edge of the tube.  Anticipating another splash directly aimed at my back, I stood, leaning toward the center handle, to avoid it.  Just as I went to sit back down, we hit a wave.  I had misjudged the height of the seat, and, with the jerk of the wave, the impact was extremely painful as I hit squarely on my tailbone.  Ouch, ouch, ouch.  I let the group know it hurt.  Then things started to go dark.  I turned to Bill and told him I was going to pass out.

Note:  I have a tendency to pass out fairly easy.  I have passed out in delightful places such as the back room of Hardee's (by the mop buckets), a check-out line at Albertson's, mobile blood donation sites (twice in church buildings), and on the kitchen floor.  In nearly all cases, I am aware enough before I pass out to say, "I'm going to pass out," although I didn't say it in Albertson's... {awkward}... I just squatted on the floor, wanting to avoid cracking my head open on the shopping cart.

Suddenly I was somewhere else.  Doing something else.

When I came to, I was drenched.  Head to toe.  The group was relieved that they wouldn't have to drag me off the ride unconscious... or ask for medics... or have the ride stopped for the ridiculously long line patiently waiting their turn.  I was relieved, too.

We had a few chuckles over how funny it must have looked, had any of those hundreds of people waiting in line been watching as our tube floated under them, then under the drenching waterfall where Bill and I, my head being held securely in his hero hands, took a direct hit.  We laughed about how we should have recorded it (on our cameras and phones tightly ziplocked in baggies and securely tucked into Bill's pockets), and how we could have won the grand prize on America's Funniest Home Videos... or gone viral on YouTube...

The experience really affected my cute niece Hannah.  I could tell by her repeated description and demonstration of how lifeless I was... and how I jerked and did weird things with my hands when we went under the waterfall... but how I still didn't wake up.  I think she had a dream about it that night.

I attempted a couple more rides after the incident, but then politely bowed out of more.  

I was injured.  In pain.

On our way out of the park, Mar and Hannah begged to go on the Terroride.  Mar closed her eyes the entire ride, and Hannah peeked only once or twice.  How... fun.

The girls had a great time.  I was happy to see Mar so happy.  She loved it.

I looked up tailbone injuries on the way home.  I decided that there was no need to see a doctor, as there is nothing that can be done to stabilize the coccyx bone.  Really even no need to determine if it's broken or just bruised, since the treatment is the same.  Even in extreme cases, surgery is largely unsuccessful.
It just takes time.  It's painful.  End of story.

I made it through the ride home Saturday, and church Sunday with relatively few problems.  Yesterday and today have been much more painful.  Bummer.

Bending,

sitting,

laughing,

coughing,

other natural bodily functions I am too polite to mention...

 all painful.

I would do it all again.  For Mar.

Things I've learned:  when the sign says to stay seated, STAY SEATED.