Like getting run over by a (hand) truck

 My Friday didn't start off great. 
I had way too much coffee for one thing (I know, who knew?) and no breakfast and I felt like I was beginning to get a cold, which makes me angry. 
I hate being sickly.
So I was walking around work feeling pretty cruddy.

I noticed a child that had been giving us a hard time all week was acting out pretty significantly during circle time, so I sat in to try to support the teacher, which made things even worse, since there was already a sub in the classroom.
At some point taking the child out of the classroom seemed like a better idea, let him have a little space to calm down, and all of that. 
As I picked him up to leave, he tried to throw himself backward, and in my attempt to prevent him from falling, my walkie talkie went flying across the room. 
It was pretty loud, and sort of blew my cool. 
I mean, my intention was not to make a huge ruckus, but there you are, a ruckus was made. 
Then to top it all off, the child did the floundering around move again, this time kicking over a playstand, which is a fancy Waldorf furniture thing, that makes a loud noise when you kick it over. 
The playstand smashed my hand, which made me wonder if wearing rings at work is such a great idea. 
I also thought my ring finger might be broken. 
I thought quite a few things, as a matter of fact, but my biggest thought was how do I not drop this child, that just really hurt me? 
When you work with children, you sometimes get hit, or kicked or from time to time, your hair pulled out, but this was a whopper!
I made it back to the office, with the child in my arms, and without swearing or screaming, which made me feel very accomplished.
My wrist and fingers were killing me, so after about 15 minutes I had to return the child to his class. 
We wrote out a contract, which he signed, promising not to make mischief any more. 
I went back to the office and picked up a phone call informing me that our bulk order was being delivered right then, the driver was calling me from the street. 
I opened the door for him and he set to work unpacking giant bags of beans and rice and oatmeal, without his usual helper. 
The helper, it seems had gone back to school, so the driver had to unload everything all by himself, which is a big job.
As I headed back to the kitchen to check in the food, the driver burst through the curtained off doorway, at a fast clip, pushing a handtruck that was about as tall as me. 
He ran smack into me, and like I said, he was going fast, not running, but fast.
My foot got stuck under the metal plate thing that hold stuff on, and the handle hit my injured hand, that I guess I stuck out in a sort of defensive move, to prevent it from hitting my face. 
I had the wind knocked out of me pretty good, and my ankle felt like I had sprained it. 
I burst into tears, because it really hurt, but it also scared me. 
One of the teachers heard the crash and came running in with ice.
I didn't want to alarm the children so I limped into a meeting room and sobbed for a few minutes and iced my wrist and ankle, drank a protein shake, then limped back to the kitchen to help put things away. 

a play stand sort of like this thing pictured here, but not as large!