Held hostage by a cell phone…

It was the first day of NaBloPoMo, and I was trapped inside a McDonalds without a computer, without even a sheet of paper and a pencil. NaBloPoMo is National Blog Posting Month, and the first time I heard of it (and immediately attempted it) was last November. The goal is simple: Post something – a post, a photo, a quote, a sentence, just something – on my blog every day for the month of November.

And I managed to blow it the first day.

On NaBloPoMo Eve, I fell as I entered an Uber vehicle (taxi service at the touch of a smartphone here in Seattle, where I am attending the wedding festivities of my nephew). We had called for an SUV, and I, one of the younger set, was aiming to sit in the back. Unfortunately, the power was out in the restaurant, and the parking lot was dark. Otherwise, someone might have noticed me trying to hoist two hefty bags, one in each hand, as I awkwardly attempted to maneuver rehearsal dinner attire, high heels, and klutzy self through the folded middle seats into the cramped blackness of the back seat.

I slipped and fell on my left shin bone, rewarded with immediate pain. (Guess that’s what happens when all your weight lands on a bone with little padding and lots of nerve endings.)

“Rub it so it won’t bruise,” my sister-in-law suggested.

Rubbing it told me the area was swiftly swelling.

Thankfully, my husband is a physical therapist and knew what to do.

“RICE treatment is what you need,” he told me (as if I hadn’t heard it from him before). “’R,’ rest, ‘I,’ ice; the ‘E’ is for elevated; and, of course, ‘C’ is for cooking.”

Haha. I know “C” is for compression. Or maybe couch?

Finally ensconced at our condo, I sprawled on the couch while he propped my leg on pillows and administered the ice treatment.

I was hurting (and cold) but also anxious, as he tried to explain the injury – bone contusion (which my smartphone autocorrects into “bone confusion”) and the whys and wherefores of the damage, dangers, and prognosis. Yay, me.

After a terrible night of sleep and another half hour of icing, my husband and I ventured out into the cold for what had become a habit on this short trip: breakfast at McDonalds while the rest of the family slept. I hobbled behind my husband and took a table where I could “E” (elevate) my leg while the McDonalds staff did the “C” cooking.

When I looked at my cell phone, I noticed it had linked to the restaurant’s wireless and was downloading new operational software – without asking permission. The phone displayed the message: Downloading software update. Please do not leave Wi-Fi coverage area.

It also displayed a progress bar and indicated it was 7% completed.

We ate. We sipped coffee. My download was 39% completed; my husband’s phone was only at 19%. We settled into the plastic chairs and observed other customers, watched amazing saltwater fish in the aquarium, and peeked at our phones time and again while Samsung insisted we remain in the wireless area. It downloaded software at a rate of 1 percent per minute – if we were lucky. We discussed what we needed to purchase from the drug store. We waited. We refilled ice water (as this McDonalds did not offer coffee refills). We discussed our options while the phones took their sweet time downloading the software.

“If I only had a pencil, I could write on the back of this tray liner,” I lamented. But we had traveled lightly and had no writing implement.

Nearly two hours after we entered the restaurant, my phone finished downloading and asked me if I wanted to update now.

Really? Now it was asking my permission?

I carefully chose “Postpone: Remind me later” and handed my cell phone to my husband. His download was 20 percent behind mine, and as my leg wasn’t up for walking, he went to the drug store by himself while I continued to wait. Close to tears. Far from a pen and paper.

And far from posting on November 1 for NaBloPoMo.

By the time I was settled on the “C” (couch) again with “I” and my leg “E” above my heart, I was ready to “R.” Any creative bone in my body had been iced along with my shin.

But this morning is another story. We skipped McDonalds.