Sometimes You’re Just a Foot From Trouble | HumorOutcasts

Sometimes You’re Just a Foot From Trouble

March 12, 2019
By

All I wanted to do was pee.

When you get to be middle aged, that kind of thing can become very important. Some people wake up at night thinking, “Did I leave the oven on?” or “Will my career ever take off?” or “Did I just hear a clown in the closet?” Men over fifty wake up thinking, “Great, my bladder is full. Again.”

This can be a dangerous thing, especially if you’re in that deep sleep mode. Luckily, after working third shift for so long, I’ve gained some experience in … well, let’s call it “sleep-pee”. Sleep-pee people can do what I’ve done hundreds of times: Get out of bed, navigate the stairs, go to the bathroom, go back up, and get into bed again, all without really waking up. It’s ingrained, like a kidney stone.

But sometimes mindless habit can get you into trouble.

I was particularly sleep-pee this time, but I somehow managed to make it downstairs. Yes, I hit the toilet. Despite my incompetence at sports, this is one area in which I have good aim. I made it back up the stairs, or so I assume, since I really don’t remember–but chances are I didn’t climb up the side of the house and go through a window.

Now, my bed has been in the same spot for over twenty years. It’s an air mattress, but it’s set inside a frame made to hold the weight of a waterbed. The side board is very, very solid.

Sometimes I forget that.

What happened next, I’ll never know for sure. Maybe my balance was affected by the sinus  medication I’d been taking. Maybe I was just more asleep then usual, even for me. Maybe the dog was on the floor, and I unconsciously tried to maneuver around him.

Whatever it was, I didn’t just climb into bed. Instead I drew back my right foot and slammed it forward, like Charlie Brown trying to kick that elusive football. My sleep-pee brain apparently thought I was two feet further from the bed than I was.

This, incidentally, was my right foot. Arthritis showed up there a few years ago, and my right big toe is already in pain more often than not.

This new pain was not addition: It was multiplication.

The kind of pain that comes from an attempted karate kick by someone with no knowledge of martial arts.

And my toenail … well, you don’t need to know all the details.

Emily was sound asleep, having not developed a middle-aged bladder. As I crumpled over onto the bed, I heard her murmur, “That sounds like it hurt–are you okay?”

I tried to answer, but I was face down on the pillow, and could only make a high, wheezing sound. After about twenty minutes I was able to roll over, by which time she’d gone right back to sleep and only vaguely remembered hearing a noise.

The dog came to check on me, but didn’t volunteer to help.

The next day, after seeing the black and blueness of my sleep-pee slip, I did an inventory. In addition to my foot, I’d put my hip out and pulled my lower back muscles. My left shoulder and upper arm ached, probably because of windmilling on my way down. I could walk, kind of, while making a little whining sound, but I didn’t really want to.

And then I healed. Okay, I’m fast fowarding, but there was some prescription pain medicine in the cabinet and, as a result, I don’t remember some of the healing process.

All because my bladder was full. Again.

I know you’re looking for some kind of moral to this story, but all I have is “get a bedroom on the same floor as the bathroom”–and even that didn’t help me here. I suppose I could also advise you not to be middle aged.

But it beats the alternative.

 

“So, how close did Mark get to major injury?”

 

“About a foot!”

 

Mark R Hunter

Mark R Hunter is the author of three romantic comedies: Radio Red, Storm Chaser, and its sequel, The Notorious Ian Grant, as well as a related story collection, Storm Chaser Shorts. He also wrote a young adult adventure, The No-Campfire Girls, and a humor collection, Slightly Off the Mark. In addition, he collaborated with his wife, Emily, on the history books Images of America: Albion and Noble County, Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights: A Century or So With The Albion Fire Department, and Hoosier Hysterical. Mark’s work also appeared in the anthologies My Funny Valentine and Strange Portals: Ink Slingers’ Fantasy/Horror Anthology. For two decades Mark R Hunter has been an emergency dispatcher for the Noble County Sheriff Department. He’s served over 32 years as a volunteer for the Albion Fire Department, holding such positions as safety officer, training officer, secretary, and public information officer. He also has done public relations writing for the Noble County Relay For Life, among other organizations, and served two terms on the Albion Town Council. When asked if he has any free time, he laughs hysterically. Mark lives in Albion, Indiana, with his wife and editor Emily, a cowardly ball python named Lucius, and a loving, scary dog named Beowulf. He has two daughters and twin grandsons, and so naturally is considering writing a children’s book.

More Posts - Website - Twitter - Facebook - LinkedIn - Pinterest - Google Plus - Flickr - YouTube

Share this Post:

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

5 Responses to Sometimes You’re Just a Foot From Trouble

  1. Bill Y "The Legendary Legend" Ledden
    March 17, 2019 at 11:59 am

    And Extreme Sleep-pee Walking has just been invented.

  2. Bill Spencer
    March 13, 2019 at 7:39 am

    You (toe-) nailed the ending.

    • March 13, 2019 at 5:34 pm

      That pun makes my toe blue. Well, it was already.

  3. March 12, 2019 at 7:04 pm

    My toes hurt just reading this!



User Login

Help Keep HumorOutcasts Going!

New Release
How to Write and Share Humor
By Donna Cavanagh Published by HumorOutcasts Press

Available in Paperback and Kindle


New Release
Maybe Kevin
By Brian Kiley and HumorOutcasts Press

Available in Paperback and Kindle



New Release
Daddy duJour
By Barbara Hammond and Shorehouse Books

Available in Paperback and Kindle



Archives