I rode horses all my life, for both pleasure and in competitions. One of the most important rules I was given as a child, was that if I fell off, to get straight back on again.
I am happy to report that Dan is feeling and looking great. As soon as he got rid of that nasty catheter his temperament improved and he felt more positive. So far he has suffered no side effects (touch wood) which we are all viewing as pretty much incredible. I told him it was because so many people had him on their prayer lists, and I know he is very grateful for everyone's good wishes and support. It has been a very trying time, but we are now getting on with our lives and putting it behind us. Hopefully the procedure will have worked, but if he has to repeat it at some time down the line, at least we know what to expect.
I can now tell you that I am still getting over my own little incident. Just four days before going to London for Dan's operation, I fell down the stairs from the top to the bottom.
I didn't say anything, only to one or two people, because I didn't want any fuss. I was more concerned with Dan than with myself. However, it shook me up, gave me "gravel rash" from the sisal carpet on several areas from bosom to ankle, and the rest was quite simply black and purple with bruising - all down my right side. I looked, and felt, like I had been hit by a truck.
It was quite early one morning, and I was being inattentive whilst carrying a tea tray and chatting over my shoulder, and I slipped (in some stupid and now forbidden slippers - most aptly named), missed the first step, and went down those stairs like a toboggan. And I was, shall we way, au naturel at the time, hence the gravel rash. Luckily, although my ribs were badly bruised, and possibly cracked, I didn't break anything. But I lay in a heap at the bottom in Dan's arms and couldn't even cry I was so shocked by it all.
Anyhow, that is in the past, and the bruising is now at the sickly yellow stage. The main difficulty has been to do with very little spanking.
We discussed this in depth before Dan's operation, and we even had alternative positions/locations in which he would be able to spank me, all sorted out in our minds. But what with Dan having that horrid catheter, and me being black and blue with gaping sores on my hip and thigh - believe me when I say my right buttock was completely black all over - it has not been a picnic around here.
As an aside, I do have to confess that Dan spanked me three days afterwards, and just before we went to London, because he said he wanted me to be careful with stairs in the future. It was quite a short spanking and was carried out very carefully and only affected the tops of my thighs and mostly my left thigh, so he wasn't being sadistic, but he felt it had to be brought to my attention that I should wear sensible footwear in future and not stupid slippers with shiny, slidey soles. I have hidden the aforesaid slippers away in the very back of my closet - probably never to see the light of day again, as I did not enjoy that spanking one bit.
But since then, I have had only one spanking, and that ended up being aborted due to difficulty finding anywhere not bruised in order to spank. Dan noticed I was getting a little effervescent - you know, the stage in which you start to fizz out of the bottle - and decided to put an end to it. But he caught me on my bruises and it hurt so much I yelled at him to stop and practically crawled forwards down off his lap and on to the floor like a slug. Unfortunately the deep inner muscle was far more bruised than we'd at first thought.
So here we are, three weeks down the line, and I can see myself becoming crabby, argumentative and provocative. Instead of being able to climb back on the horse, I am still leading the blessed thing around by the reins and looking longingly up at the saddle. What a state of affairs.
We did discuss the situation this morning. Dan discovered, to his excitement and surprise, that one particular side effect he had been warned about, has not materialised. We were both quite stunned. But not being ones to turn down an opportunity when it presents itself, suffice it to say that we made the most of it. Smirk.
Afterwards as I lay face down in a state of exhaustion he gave me a sudden sharp swipe across the bruised part of me. I flinched, mainly because I wasn't expecting the spank, than from pain, but Dan said that he would wait until next weekend to address my attitude and misdemeanours. Significant attitude and significant demeanours, he said, raising an eyebrow.
My life isn't simple. When I get a good stretch, something always gets in the way to agitate the waters.
Had I not fallen downstairs, Dan could've continued to spank me quite happily, and I would probably been okay with our usual reminder sessions. But now, it looks as if I am due for a real workout, and the snag is that I know it is going to feel twice, no, three times as bad as it should, due to such a long no-spanking interval, and the deep tissue bruising, of course. I am feeling nervous already, and I have a whole week to go yet. I shall be a gibbering wreck by next weekend.
I wonder if there is anything I can do to toughen up a bit? Is there any kind of a pre-spanking arnica I could use? LOL. Or maybe I should just run away and stay with a friend who lives abroad, for a bit?
Whilst I am delighted that Dan seems even better in both body and spirit than before his operation, I never anticipated that it would be my butt that suffered.
When the time comes, I know I shall get back up on that horse when instructed to do so
but never in my life have I been so glad that we don't have half the weapons of ass destruction that the rest of you seem to have. It'll be so good to get back to this.