Ouch, Explained

***SHOCKING NEW DEVELOPMENT!!! PLEASE SEE BELOW***

First, an update:  Notwithstanding the fact that I winced myself awake every time I moved, I nonetheless managed a decent night's sleep. The human body, and the mind that drives it, are both wonderfully adaptive:  I've learned the trick of sitting down and standing up mostly without pain, which is accomplished by putting as much weight as I can on my left leg and having that side of my body do the heavy lifting.  Also lifting my right arm is a little easier today. If I forget and, for example, scratch my eye with my right hand, instead of experiencing pain like I've been kicked in the ribs it's now a lesser, somewhat duller pain.  Put it another way: instead of it being a symphony of pain, it's, say, a three-person kazoo band of pain.

Also I've included some pictures to show you the theater of war, as it were:

An overview of the journey.  I opened the door...

Fell down these stairs...

 somehow twisted my body leftward, while my momentum took me right...

...and down these stairs, head first and on my back.

***UPDATE: I suspect I've got the trajectory of the fall wrong.  I remember now that at one point I came in contact with grass - remember I had no shirt on so that's something I'd feel - so I think the way it happened was more like this:

...making it all the more incredible that I didn't konk myself on the head.  I definitely remember sort of flying through the air for a tiny second, which this would explain too.  Oh, you should know that the cans aren't where they were, they got scattered pretty good by a half-naked fat man falling all over them.