Broken

This last week has been very educational in the ways of bad luck for me ... normally I'm not usually a bad luck kinda guy ... until last Wednesday ...

I'm currently expressing my new found bad luck as a 1 Act play and hope to be done writing before the cast comes off here's a play by play of my 2 Broken Days:

Wednesday

• 08:40 - I passed a major car accident (no one badly hurt, but cars totaled) as I rode my bike to work. (This should have been my Final Destination warning)
  
• 09:00 - Stared working diligently at Nash Entertainment (Sunset/Gower Studios)
  
• 14:00 - Rode bike to Hollywood/Vine Metro to take Metro to Pershing Square (Pershing Square has one of the most amazing escalator rides I've ever seen)
  
• 15:30 - Meeting with Nick/Stef's management to discuss my missing a shift, calling in, leaving messages for my schedule, not being called back, etc
  
• 15:45 - Told by General Manager, "You're not a 'good fit' aka he got all Donald Trump on my ass!
  
• 16:45 - Unlocking bike at Hollywood/Vine and hot chick in hot car cruises me - I giggle all the ride back to work
  
• 20:00 - Gym - did some yoga asanas to help with my tender wrist (ole war wound - 2 broken arms 25 years ago + sore from lifting women onto a spike for the play/magic show I'm in)
  
• 22:00 - Hit by a car riding my bike home (only dented my bike, no damage to car, driver or rider)

Thursday

• 08:40 - Riding bike to work - swerved to avoid tiny tiny puddle; both tires go off the lip of the sidewalk onto the grass; i tried to bring front tire back onto sidewalk, but doesn't want to go; traveling at high velocity bike gets a mind of its own and crashes; I'm dragged 20 feet - right hand hits first, elbow, shoulder, backpack and finally head. I sit for about 10 min trying to assess my injuries and when I look at my cresent-ed hand I know it's broken; can't move elbow - think it's broken, tried to feel if the bone was still there, but couldn't really feel my arm or the bone. Get my bearings, get back on my bike and ride a mile to work (cause I know people there with cars and they know the closest hospitals). After 8 years of bike ridding round Amsterdam - nothing. 8 months in LA and WHAM! BLAM!!
  
• 09:00 Arrive at work all white and still in shock - tell Shannon (a friend I knew back in UK Elementary School 25 years ago - yes she knew me when I was broken before)
  "I think I broke my hand do you know any hospitals nearby?"
  
• 09:15 Leave NASH (a very nice coworker Jacque carts me off)
  
• 09:20 Arrive at closest hospital
  
• 09:30 Finally seen by a nurse (10 min felt like eternity) only to be told that they can't do casts in this hospital
  
• 09:50 Arrive at Kaiser Perm. on Sunset (across from the HUGE HUGE HUGE Scientology complex)
  
• 10:10 Finally find Emergency Room - the signs are crap! Just like Belgium!
  (any of you that have had the misfortune of driving round that country know EXACTLY what I mean - beautiful but impossible to navigate)
  
• 10:15 Finally seen by a "checking in" person only to be redirected to another counter
  
• 10:20 Finally seen by the "another counter" person - there was lots of confusion when I said that I had no US insurance
  I thought, "Great, this is just like SiCKO - I'm FUCKED!"
  They were ever so happy to find out I had a social #, so they took that and to my amazement said go see the nurse now. I thought they would bleed me of all my money before they touched a hair on my body.
  
• 10:45 Finally got some ice for the swelling, only after hailing down a nurse and begging for it (2 hours after the break)
  
• 11:00 I tell Jacque to head back to work (busy crazy day for her), she being so sweet, leaves me her mobile phone to call parents, friends
  (my mobile bat ran out that morning - lucky me)
  
• 11:15 As I finally reach Mom and Dad my name is called
  
• 11:20 Nurse takes my blood pressure, temp, etc (all normal) - she tells me a doctor will be with me shortly
  
• 11:30 Called Producer/Stage Manager of the show I'm in - leaving rambling messages cause I'm still in shock and don't know how fucked up I am.
  (I usually have a good rapport with my body and know if something's up - I knew my hand was broken, but I didn't know the status of my elbow)
  In 8.5 hours I had to be onstage lifting women onto a spike.
  
• 11:40 Update Mom & Dad - they are in just as much panic as I am
  
• 11:45 Finally seen by Dr. - he checks my finger/hand/elbow and orders X-rays
  
• 12:00 Ushered back to the X-ray waiting room.
  
• 12:15 Finally X-rayed (the techs were GREAT!!! Very friendly and quite the jokers, which I needed, cause the pain of having to extend my elbow for the X-rays was hell)
  
• 12:25 Back in the waiting room
  
• 12:40 Dr. comes back in says elbow is fine, but pinky finger at base of hand is a clean break.
  (what's with me and clean breaks - both arms 25/26 years ago were clean breaks - don't hate just cause I'm consistent)
  
• 12:50 Finally get into the cast room where I try to be jovial, but the caster is to have none of it! I get "antsy" and start pacing,
  which could have been the Devil's jig at the rate and intensity she told my heathen ass to, "PLEASE, sit down!"
  
• 13:00 She's almost done wrapping and just as she grabs my finger to splint it she gets a "crazed look" and stage whispers at me, "Is Jesus in your soul?"
  "What the fuck?" I think, but I utter a shocked, "Excuse Me?"
  "Is Jesus in your heart?" as she tightens her grip on my finger
  Unable to move, thinking, "Just fucking finish and let me get the fuck out of here!" I end up muttering, "Um ... I'm a Buddhist?"
  "I knew, I knew it. You're going to go to hell if you don't take Jesus Christ into your life, you know that don't you?"
  
• 13:05 ...silence ...
  Doesn't the bible say somewhere, “... whatever measure you deal out to others, it will be dealt to you in return.” (It does, I looked it up online)
  ...silence ...
  
• 13:30 Actually it was only 2 minutes but felt like an eternity
  "Um ... my brother is a minister." (he actually 'was' one, but at this time I'm only thinking of getting out alive with my finger still attached)
  "Where is he ministering?"
  "Colorado Springs ... You know where the shootings were a few months ago ... where the people were killed? My sister-in-law and the kids were there the day before."
  (the latter remark was true, but my brother doesn't minister there - this at least would quell her, I thought)
  "So, he's told you you're going to hell!"
  ...silence...
  (I love my bro, but I'm sure he's actually thought that a few or a few many times)
  ...silence...
  She then tells me where I can meet the Kaiser Orthopedic Surgeon tomorrow, "He's 'over there' on the other side of the street, 'over there' near the 'Scientologists'"
  I thought, "I'd rather deal with them then having you violate me like this."
  
• 13:45 Get my X-rays
  Pay $200 deposit (they wouldn't recognize my Dutch Insurance)
  High Tail my former born-again now heathen Buddha ass the hell out of there!
  
• 18:00 Arrive for show call. Cast consoles me. We work out an alternative for me lifting the ladies (instead of torso I lift legs)
  
• 20:00 Show Time, and we rock with a killer show

Friday

• 07:30 Alarm - I think, "Today can only get better." (and you know what ... it did!)