Being the graceful person that I am, I think I am well qualified
to write this.
Here are the
feelings you get when you break a bone.
The first time, it's scary!
You're in pain, you cry and you're not sure why the pain is so deep and
severe. You're afraid it could be fatal but you hope you won't die, even
though you feel like you will!! Then every ache and pain afterwards is also
scary. You wonder if it is supposed to hurt like it hurts, or as long as
it hurts. People are nice to you and try to help and you appreciate it
because you feel fragile. You live through it and feel like a hero.
The second time,
you think, "This is awful! Why does this have to happen to me?"
The pain is just as severe, but this time, you know it's not fatal and
that is a relief! When people start being nice and helping you, you think,
" This isn't that bad. It's kind of nice to not have to deal with
mean brothers!" You kind of milk it because you know they will never be
nice again! You make it through and think, I can do hard things.
The third time,
your first reaction is, "Oh, s#!+*! Not again!!" You are
mad because it will ruin your plans and know that 6 weeks is too long to be
without the use of an appendage. It still hurts, but you are more mad
than sore. You think, at least your brothers and friends will be nice
again, but their patience is wearing thin as well. They're nice for a
while but not as long as before! You think it's time to start taking it a
little easier.
The next time, you
know that you can't milk it like before because they are getting used to your
clumsiness and they just make fun of you! Your reaction is very similar to the
3rd time - NOT AGAIN!!! You buck up, do your cast and/or crutches time, and vow
to be more careful. You feel humbled.
By the 7th time,
yes I said 7th (and that doesn't count the innumerable sprains and stitches)
you go into auto pilot much like changing a baby's diaper or cleaning a toilet,
you hate it but you know what to do. You immediately announce loudly,
"I'm Ok". Then you sit and analyze the sore places. You
know that the arm and other foot is hurt, but not seriously. You swear,
not because of the all familiar pain, but because you are embarrassed and
disgusted with yourself because of your lack of coordination. You know
what to do! First you feel around with your fingers and then you test the
movement of your appendage. You can feel at the point at which it is broken
that this will require another cast. You carefully move to the closest soft
chair and call the Doctor. When you see him, you tell him what you did
and what he needs to do to fix it. (By this time, he knows to listen to
you).
You don't want to
make a fuss about it because it is nothing new. You try to hide it and
not look pathetic. When people want to help, for first reaction is much
like a 2 year old: you give them a sour look and say, "I can do it my
myself!" Luckily, you know enough that when the Doctor says to stay off it
for 6 weeks, you listen!
You try to laugh
at it and make fun of yourself hoping that people will forget about it and not
make a fuss. You just want it all to go away and are sad because you know what
the next 6 weeks holds in store for you.
You start planning
the next 6 weeks almost like a vacation plan. You start recording more
shows on TV, find a stack of books you want to read, by more yarn so you can
knit, and divvy out all of your housekeeping responsibilities knowing that if
you don't, NOTHING gets done.
You start planning
your life 6 weeks in advance and VOW that you will be more careful. You live
through it and STILL feel like a dork!
Then repeat!!!
AARRGGHHH!!!!
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