Alas, it cushioned the blow and when I stood up and wondered if I was going to find a knee paralleling my ankle from Fall, I found no pain. Just a lot of blood. "Good, I thought. Go to bed." So I did.
The next morning I couldn't find my glasses and I looked for them everywhere, before I thought to myself, "I wonder if you had them on when you wiped out last night"
Sure enough, they flew forward next to the snowblower. I'm lucky they didn't break or scratch.
No need to worry. It's been almost a week and there's no swelling. All that remains is this remnant of a Cro-Magnon skull on my right knee. I like scars, as they give something to write about. I don't like injuries, however, especially after the year that just was.
Alas poor Yorick. I knew him well.
As for the Covid update, just when you think you're on the up-and-up, WHAM! it comes back to remind you who is boss. And sleep. And necessary rest. And no choice. The body just collapses and so does the mind.
So I give in to it. What else can I do?
My first thought this morning when I got up? When can I go back to bed? I'm still exhausted.