SoCS — I’m Just Ribbing You

e4aa34ad-19a4-4e9e-9f02-53fdf9c21f39-e1555731353637.jpegFor this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, Linda G. Hill has asked us to pay tribute to the word “rib.” I am pleased to be able to make a contribution to this effort.

I don’t know if you know this, but I broke a few ribs in a downhill snow skiing accident a while back. Sure, I took a lot of ribbing from my friends who witnessed my clumsiness. But I failed to see the humor in it. You see, one attribute of a rib injury is that it’s both very painful and extremely annoying. And my doctor wouldn’t prescribe anything for pain stronger than Tylenol. Sheesh.

If you’ve ever broken a rib or two, then you know that for about a month to six weeks after breaking a rib, you don’t want to sneeze or laugh because doing so causes you to expand your ribcage, and with a cracked rib, that results in excruciating pain. For the same reason, you also don’t want anyone to hug you. What about hot and heavy sex? Fuhgeddaboudit.

And for heaven’s sake, if you’re taking a dump and you need that last big push to get it all out, be prepared to suffer. I know that I put up with a lot of trials and tribulations by having cracked a few ribs. Breaking a rib has a terribly long, sad, and lonely recovery period.

Okay, I think I’ve described the hassle of broken ribs enough for now. But, strangely, I’ve developed a sudden urge to go out to Chili’s for a rack of baby back ribs.

In Other Words — Invisible Injury

FD5300A3-5A76-4B67-97A2-47D721BDA967If you’ve ever suffered from a broken rib, then you’ll understand why I call it the invisible injury.

For at least a month after breaking a rib, simple, natural, everyday acts — coughing, sneezing, laughing, blowing your nose, or even pushing out a stubborn poop — can lead to excruciating pain.

You pray that no one comes up to you to give you a hug, to slap you on your back, or even to vigorously shake your hand.

And since you’re not wearing a cast, no one knows that you’ve got a broken rib.

At least when you have a broken arm or a broken leg, others can see that you’ve broken something, so, unlike with a broken rib, your injury is not invisible.

Written for the In Other Words prompt from Patricia’s Place. The challenge this week is to write a story or poem of five lines or fewer using the word “invisible.”