Those were my words from the bottom of the pool Monday evening. I was walking down the deep incline to get the pump going again because it had stopped, (needs to stay dry for the curing stage of five days so had to get the rain water off of it) and as I was about two-thirds of the way down, unbeknownst to me, the bottom of the incline was wet. My feet slid on the slicker than snot (I really hate that analogy, sorry) rubberized pool floor, and I went ka-whack!! Hitting my entire right side in the free fall. Since I was holding the rope we use to climb up and down that incline, I held on tighter to keep from tumbling, thus, I am fairly certain from the way it feels, tearing my rotator cuff.
As I lay there on my back staring around at Bikini Blue walls and floor, I was hoping I had not broken anything because it felt as though my thigh bone was cracked.
After a little wiggling spell, I decided nothing was broken, and after looking around at the big bugs crawling all over the place, I hurriedly got up, really deciding I was fine. After all, there may have been a baby frog down there as well. EEEEEEEK!!
But I’m not. I hurt from stem to stern and am bruising more and more each day. My right shoulder is killing me, and I can barely use it. I have decided I’m too old for this sheet. What the heck am I doing at the bottom of a 10-foot or more deep swimming pool?
So for the last two days, I have been dragging around like the town tomcat because I can’t sleep and I hurt like Hades. I am praying for a miracle, so am quite sure God will forget about those awful things I said to Him and about Him Sunday afternoon and Monday evening and will heal me.
Or at least send some knight in shining armor that will want to whisk me up on his Bikini Blue wheelchair and roll off together in the sunset… leaving the Bikini Blue pool for the frogs and the bugs.