Four Months

For four months, I defied my ancestry. I swam upstream, like a salmon, fighting against the notorious klutziness that is in my DNA. I stepped carefully, moved with caution, and I made it four months without hitting my head. No bumps entering a car or grabbing under the table. Nothing. I'm very proud of myself.

Then today, it came crashing down on me. Literally. I had put the meatballs in the oven and opened the pantry door to get my crock pot off the top shelf. Standing on my toes, my hands found the base of the pot and lifted it gently. But then. As the pot moved closer and closer to the edge of the shelf, something shiny caught my eye: the glass lid sliding off the top. In slow motion, it began to fall, knocking against a phone book like a bumper in the kids' lane at a bowling party. There was nothing I could do without dropping the ceramic pot and breaking my foot as it cracked, so I just stood there, watching. The heavy lid careened off the bumper and WHAM! A sharp pain on the right side of my head made me cry out. I set the crock pot down and my hand flew to the impact point, checking for blood; there wasn't any. I knew a bump would form soon, as well as a massive headache, so I popped two extra strength Tylenol before it had a chance to get too bad. I couldn't believe the pain; I was shocked at the force of it and didn't know how to stop it. My eyes welled with tears - the kind that come with a head bump and embarrass you by making you look like a little kid. It hurt so much, but yet I was grateful: grateful that it hadn't hit my healing left side and grateful that I made it four months without something like this.

As I expected, the pain spread from my traumatized right side to my fragile left side, leaving me with an overall sense of fogginess like I hadn't felt since leaving the hospital. I would put myself at a six, maybe a seven. I tried to do my dishes, but I felt nauseous. I tried to reply to a few emails, but I couldn't think straight. Eventually I gave in and made my way to my couch with a glass of water and an ice pack. I knew I wouldn't touch my To Do list; I was out of commission.

The ice pack was heavy and, though the cold felt wonderful, only increased my headache. I tried to hold it up with my hands, relieving the weight, and it worked for a while - until my hands got too cold... Suffice to say, I spent the rest of the day watching reruns of Bones and feeling sorry for myself.