Underneath the scrapes ...

... are bruises. Deep, deep bruises. I didn't really feel them at first, but now that the external wounds are healing, the palm and elbow and hip and foot are hurting more and more. Like down-to-the-bone hurt.

Last night I rolled over and propped myself up on my right hand to get a drink of water -- it felt like I was resting my palm on a red-hot knitting needle. It's actually astounding how much it hurts.

I do give myself kudos for at least having the cat-like reflexes to attempt to break my fall with my hand. Though next time maybe a shoulder roll would be the way to go. Or the head. The only freaking thing on my body that was protected didn't come close to hitting the pavement.

Anyway, I think there's a useful metaphor or analogy in here somewhere ...