It was my birthday.  On Saturday my family took me out to lunch at the Indian buffet of my choice (both my father and my brother were good sports about this – they even sampled a number of things, though not the vegetable dishes, before sticking to rice and chicken curry and ending with the pistachio-almond ice cream).  I fell in love with something that featured large flat beans that looked like lima beans (or so I was told, even though they were yellow – “It’s the SPICES that gives them that colo,” dad said; I remain skeptical), but didn’t taste like lima beans.  They can be so rubbery, and these just fell apart in my mouth when I bit into them.  The spinach and paneer dish did not disappoint, and they had the gulab jamun – those doughy, syrup-soaked balls.

Before leaving, I visited the rest room where I had just enough time to register that they had a space heater that appeared to be drying the damp floor (CAUTION!!!  AVISO!!!) before I noticed my feet sliding apart (too far! too far!) and hit the ground, landing on my thumb.  My THUMB!  I must have landed on some other parts of me, too, but it all happened so fast – the down! the up again! that I don’t remember.  What side did I even fall on?  This baffles me.  It’s my left thumb that hurts if I press on it in a certain way (don’t press on it that way) and it goes a little ouch-numb-all-my-nerves-are-on-fire.  I don’t think that it’s broken.  It’s not swollen either.  I woke up and was stiff this morning – all over stiff, though, so that didn’t provide any extra insight into the sites of impact.  The take-home message is that I don’t recommend this.  Stay upright.


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