I damaged my push-me pull-you

A little over a week ago I was watchin' the tube when my Jazz pushed the blanket that drapes over the back of the couch off it and on to the heat register.  Not a big deal, she's done it before.  I reached over the back of the couch to pick it up and stretched and stretched a little more 'cause my arms are just noooot quite long enough to out and out grab it and put it back.  That second stretch, the hard part of the back of the couch must have caught me right between two ribs because when I finally got my fingertips on it all of a sudden the worst pain struck me.  Dang, now what?  I didn't think too much more of it until the next morning when I was sitting here reading the paper.  What the heck had I done?  At first I thought that I was having a heart attack and then it was 'Duh, the pain's on the right side, not the left, ya ditz'.  And then I remembered the move of the day before.  Nice.
Well I'm still reminded.  You don't really realize how the body is connected to the rib cage by a whole lot of muscles and tendons until you mess it up.  It hurts to try to roll over and get out of bed.  It hurts to sit up straight and it hurts to slouch.  It hurts to pull up your pants and it hurts to pull them down.  It hurts to push the door latched and it hurts to pull the door closed behind you.  And dang, don't, and I mean DON'T, cough or sneeze! 
I cracked a rib once before when I was feeding the horses and hooked my toe in a pallet we were using to keep the hay off the concrete floor in the feed room.  In that instance I landed on my rib cage on a 4x4 that was in the doorway and grain went flying everywhere.  Steve the pot-bellied pig had a hey day.  At least the grain didn't go totally to waste.
The only thing is I can't, for the life of me, remember exactly how long this is going to last.
Ah well, this too, shall pass.