I’m clumsy. Always have been. I move too fast for someone who never learned the art of graceful movement. Anyway, back at Brevoort Lake, I was admiring the inside of a neighbor’s camper van, when I went to step outside and missed the narrow running-board step. Went down like the proverbial sack of potatoes, landing hard on my left side. Knocked the wind clean out of me. The neighbors hovered about for the few minutes it took me to breathe again and get back on my feet. Moe was busy playing with their dog and Russ, packing up the last of our stuff, was oblivious to the drama taking place just yards away.
I got up, got dusted off, and finished hitching up the trailer, drove Russ across the Mackinaw Bridge, and helped him unload at his camp for the night. Then I drove another 60 miles to Otsego Lake, where I planned to stay for a few days until I returned to the shores of Lake Michigan in Ludington (I had to go inland for a bit, as I couldn’t get a campground on the lake over the weekend. Russ, fortunately, can stay at any of the state parks, as they always have tent sites reserved for bicyclists.)
I pretty quickly realized I’d injured something, but it wasn’t too bad—I was able to set up camp and take care of myself if I was careful about how I moved. My brother Jeff, an anesthesiologist and the go-to medical guy in our family, talked it over with me and opined that I had probably bruised some ribs. So I took it easy (no kayaking on a lovely lake, alas) and Moe and I simply relaxed and enjoyed the cooler weather.

And some more spectacular sunsets:


But on my final day, I felt something “pop” and the pain immediately got worse. By the time I made it to Cartier Park Campground in Ludington, my ribs were in agony and I was finding it hard to breathe. Kind campers nearby helped me to unhitch my trailer, and Moe and I headed to the nearest urgent care.
By the time I arrived, I looked and sounded like I’d been shot in the chest. They took one look at me and called an ambulance to take me to the hospital. I was frantic about Moe, out in the car, until a kind and quick-witted nurse fetched him, relocked my car, and told the EMTs he was an emotional support animal and needed to stay with me.

And so he did, all through the next 24 hours, while they determined that I had two broken ribs, and a bruised and swollen lung. A police officer held him while I went for x-rays, nurses walked him and brought him water, and they even asked for extra sausages with my breakfast so he would have something to eat. They offered to find a kennel where he could stay while I was in for observation, I refused, and they found room for me overnight in the ER, where he could stay with me (they would not allow him on the hospital floors). They even brought me a hospital bed: much more comfortable than the gurney I’d been on for several hours.
And so I passed 24 hours in the ER of the Ludington, MI hospital. The next day, after consultation with the doctor, it was decided that I could leave, as there didn’t seem to be much risk of additional lung injury. A solid regimen of pain meds went with me (as did Moe, of course).