Horses + bruised? ribs + tires = a day off?

Background information:
I parked a truck and fifty-two horse trailer at my home last night. Said trailer had a horse in it when I went to bed.
Earlier this week, it became uncomfortable to breathe deeply and downright painful to sneeze or otherwise abruptly flex my chest cavity due to a mysterious ailment in my ribcage.
My minivan has a slow leak that left the tire flat over the course of not driving it this week.

Today (beginning around four forty-five):
Left for work with truck and trailer. Ten minutes from home: Sparks. Lots of 'em. Coming from somewhere at the back of the trailer. Pulled over; Blow Out. Spectacular. Most of the tread wrapped around the axle. Nearly the entire sidewall intact, still on the rim.

Look for tools:
Star wrench? Check. Spare Tire? Check. Cool little ramp to lift the axle so I don't need a death trap (AKA "jack")? Check. Painful to move in a twisty way? Check. Pain exacerbated when bent over (as in changing a tire)? Check.

It is less than tons of fun to try to change a tire with bruised? ribs. I say, "bruised?", because I assume I would be far less functional were they broken.

Tire off. Spare tire... Hmmm, that nut seems to be awfully long winded. Oh, never mind, the bolt is turning with it. Seems a certain Montana weld did not hold.

Now I have to call in the big guns - dun da da dun daahhh!!! Pops to the rescue. Not the speedy rescue, of course. You get what you pay for, and I treat that poor bastard like family.

Whew! Glad that didn't go smoothly.

Three hours later, I call to tell Eddie that I'm not going to make it to his last day of work, because I don't want anyone to see me cry when he leaves.

Now my ribs hurt. I'm going to take some drugs and lounge.