I’m icing my knee right now. I tripped over a chair this evening and fell. There are three huge purple lumps on the side of my leg and it hurts a LOT. Oh, and I have to walk about 926 miles this weekend. Good timing, huh?
This is just one more time I’ve injured myself before something important.
- In 2001, I was a week away from my first trip to Europe when I broke my foot. I was also five months pregnant. These two things allowed us to board every flight early, so it wasn’t the worst.
- A couple years ago I fell in the garage and landed on my chin. When I opened my eyes and saw a bunch of little white things in front of me, my first thought was that I broke all my teeth. My second thought was that I wouldn’t be able to go to the David Sedaris reading that night. My third thought was that those white things were fertilizer bits and maybe our garage needs to be swept better. I made it to David Sedaris—I know you were worried.
- Two weeks after the chin thing, I fell again, but this time I caught my eyelid on the armoire latch on the way down. Hi-laaaarious, right? I was on some powerful drugs and one side of my forehead was still swollen, but I made it to Rent two days later anyway.
It sucks to hurt oneself before one is expected to be physically active and/or seen in public. But if one is hurt while doing something of which one can be proud, one would not be quite so embarrassed to tell one’s true account of how one was hurt.
(Speaking of hurt… it hurts to write all that “one” stuff. No more.)
I don’t get hurt playing sports because I avoid playing sports. Not once have I hurt myself saving puppies from a backyard well. I’ve rarely been injured chasing angry honey badgers out of school carnivals. I’ve never been called to rescue wheelchair-bound children from a burning orphanage, but if I ever am, there’s no doubt I’ll get out alive and well.
My most serious injuries have all happened inside my home.
The only thing that makes sense is that my husband is trying to kill me but he totally sucks at it.