Yesterday I fell down some stairs. I slipped, my legs buckled, and I landed on my knees and slid down the concrete steps, feet folded beneath me like little useless wings.

I was fine, able to walk immediately; nothing twisted or broken. My jeans were ripped on the left knee and I was mildly nauseous from the endorphin rush.

My first thought was, “Wow, my shins are going to be black with bruises from knee to ankle.” Well, actually that was the second thought. My first thought was, “Good thing I didn’t pitch forward, because then I could have lost teeth and I don’t have any health insurance right now and that would really really suck.”

Dre drove me home, and I limped up the stairs of our house and promptly put packs of ice on both legs. Then I sat and wrote and read for a few hours, replacing the ice bags when they got too melty.

Amazingly, I barely bruised at all. Sure: both knees are a little scraped and tender, and my left shin has a patch of road rash, but there is no sign of the foot-long blackened fingers of swollen bruise that I had expected.

This proves that ice really does work to prevent inflammation and bruising. How dumb am I that I just figured this out?