My Knee

This is what I did to my knee:

I was playing paintball. It was the beginning of the second round. I ran and skid on my knees to get low behind a pile of logs. My right knee (re: the picture up above) made contact with a very long and sharp rock. I laid on my back with my knees up in front of my, right next to the bunker, so as to allow my to stay low, out of the line of fire, and be able to lean left and right to see around the logs. Of course I felt the effect of the knee-rock collision, but I didn't see the damage, so I kept playing. I ran out of paintballs after about 7 or 8 minutes, so I stuck my head out to get hit by a paintball. As I stood up to walk off the field, I felt a rush of wetness drench my right leg from the knee down. I kept walking to at least get out of the line of fire before checking my wound. As I approached the young-lady ref guarding the field's exit, I opened up the rip in my right pant-leg. What I saw shocked the young lady as much as it shocked me. Since some of the refs were First Aid certified, they took care of me while they called for help on the radios. I laid down and had one of the refs grab something to rap my knee. Within about 10 minutes there were a couple nurses and several other First Aid people to help me. One of the main nurses who took care of me, Sandy, rinsed my knee with some sort of liquid. That hurt like hell. Thanks to my buddy Pablo, I had a hand to hold throughout the whole process. Next thing I know, I'm airlifted on a stretcher, watching streams of sunlight seep through the branches or trees passing over head. Or, in my case, in front of my face.

(To be continued. Maybe.)