Apparently, I am not the most graceful of beings. I know, I know, those of you that know me have got to be completely in shock at this statement. I have been described as a "bull in a china shop", likened to an ex-NFL great linebacker nicknamed "The Mad Stork", you get the general idea. When I used to work in retail, I was a whirling dervish of activity, hyperactive and bouncing from customer to stockroom to displays, often running into racks over clothing, usually with a great amount of force. Sometimes I would either cut myself or be covered with bruises and not notice these things until someone would point them out to me. This is something that I have dealt with my entire life. When I was very young, my parents were seriously worried about me and had my eyes checked because I would keep running into walls, or misjudge the distance and bump into things with my legs and my shoulders. I do this still to this day. It is not uncommon for me to be walking somewhere and clip[ a doorway or a corner quite hard with my shoulder or bounce off of things that might be in my way. The thing is, it isn't that I don't see these things, nor is it the commonly given excuse that I am not paying attention. I am fully aware that they are there. I also realize how much space my body takes up. It's that my brain sees these things and calculates the damage that they may inflict upon me and how much effort to would take to change my route and generally decides to just keep going. Basically, I am a victim of my brain's idea of efficiency. I'm going to let that sink in for a bit.
OK...and we're back. I know, I know, when most of you think of me, "efficient" is probably not the word that you first think of, but it really is. MY brain determines that the time and effort that it would take to re-route would waste more time than absorbing the contact would cause pain. Trust me, sometimes I definitely question my own brain. But this has me thinking, everyone has a different pain threshold and pain serves a very important purpose. Pain is SUPPOSED to be a deterrent. It is supposed to alert you that what you are doing is bad. Please stop, or I will debilitate you. Now, everybody's brain is different and the amount of pain that they determine is allowable. Apparently, mine is suicidal.
The problem with being willing to withstand great amounts of pain in order to get what you want is that you can sustain quasi-severe injuries. When I was in 3rd grade, I was living just outside of Rochester. I was at my sister's softball game with my family and my best friend Char also was there. and we were playing games like Star Wars, and running around and overall making nuisances of ourselves, you know, like little boys do. We found ourselves behind this school, away from the prying eyes of responsible people like parents. Psssh...who needs them? So, we find the swings and a play structure, but it being relatively early in the spring, the swings haven't been attached, however, I have the native climbing skills of a monkey and am now about 10 feet in the air and I think "Hey, I bet I can hang from this and climb my way across like monkey bars." The overestimation of my physical prowess started at a young age. I got my hands around the top and realized that this was way more slick than I originally thought. I removed one hand and swung to get a grip...and then I discover that gravity is a cruel mistress and we are all her subjects. Now, in the 80's they covered playground play areas with wood chip mulch. I never understood this concept. I would think it would do a lot more damage than good, but I get up, attempt to dust myself off, and OW! Hey! Why can't I straighten my elbow out all the way?? No matter. I am going to over to Char's to spend the night and we are going to McDonald's after the soccer game and I'm gonna get me some chicken mcnuggets!" Keep in mind this is the 80's. Chicken McNuggets JUST came on the scene. MY favorite sandwich was a McDLT...Shut up...I don't need you judging me. So I don't tell anyone what's happened, and we decide it would be a good time to head back over and check the status of the game. The game is now over and we go to McDonald's and then over to Char's. I continue to be be me, he had a zip line hooked up in his front yard and me, elbow now swollen and throbbing with pain, belly full of McNuggets, decide it would be a good time to zoom across the yard on the zipline. we play for a few more hours and settle down for an intellectual game of checkers. Well, this would be where the jig is up. I go to reach for something and my friend's mother, who if memory serves was a nurse, notices that 1. I can't extend my arm all the way and 2. my elbow is all swollen and bruised to bejeezus. Thus ends the sleepover. I get a double dose of "Why didn't you tell me? blah blah blah...one from my friend's mom and then from mine.
Long story short...basically, I dislocated my elbow. They popped it back into place, and put me in a sling. Now, it's vacation. I'm 8 or something. I'm a boy. They tell me keep my arm in a sling and I should be fine, IMPLYING that I should rest and take it easy and they will see me in a week. Apparently, I am not great at picking up on subtext. I report back to the doctor next week, the nurse is in shock. My sling is grass stained and dirty. My elbow has actually WORSENED. The solution...new sling...and then wrap a second sling around my body, immobilizing me. Think, half strait-jacket. 2 weeks of that, and I healed. But I was NOT a happy camper. Now, I would have thought that the pain that I inflicted upon myself would have been a warning to myself to say "Hey! Stop doing this!" Once more, apparently not.
2 things to take away from this story.
1. I'm not clumsy. I'm just being efficient.
2. I am completely willing to mutilate my body for chicken mcnuggets.
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