Yesterday I managed once again to be on the receiving end of a wound of unknown origin. Random injuries are a daily thing for me. If I haven’t successfully hurt myself, broken something, or stained a piece of clothing, I haven’t gotten out of bed yet. I am currently in possession of the aforementioned cut (a scratch embedded in the fleshy part of my palm, rendering the comfort of Bandaids impractical), as well as at least four others. I won’t catalogue them for you (because who wants to read a list of cuts, bangs, bruises, and abrasions?), but in the interest of full disclosure I’ll admit that two shirts have also been harmed in the making of this weekend: one last night, splattered by spaghetti sauce (another good reason I don’t often cook) and the second this morning, dipped into my peanut butter toast breakfast.
I’ve resigned myself to this fate and I can’t say it even bothers me all that much, once the initial pain and throbbing reminders are doused by time, medicine, or — in the case of the stained clothing — laundry detergent. There are even a few advantages to a life of accident pronness. (Another thing I’m prone to doing: creating new words.) For one thing, there’s hope that my minor daily pains are a hedge against occasional catastrophic ones. This may be flawed logic — after all, one of my first actions upon this Earth was to undergo open-heart surgery — but I’m optimistic. Other advantages include the bonding that occurs when swapping tales of injuries past, and ever-increasing background knowledge for my writing. Flimsy, yes. But they’re all I’ve got, and since I’ve had this penchant for accidental pain for over thirty years, I’ve learned to appreciate the good points and try not to wonder about tomorrow.
You’ve also got peanut butter toast. And that’s something.
I go with Cocoa Pebbles on mornings like that.
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PJD, True. There is that. I can add it to the list.
Pomeroy, alas, they do not give me the long-lasting energy I need, although they are more delicious than peanut butter toast, that is true.
I’m pretty good at accidents myself. Especially on days when we’re having company and I’m oh, in a hurry to get everything done. Mine have been a tad worse than minor, but certainly not catastrophic (nothing a trip to the ER couldn’t fix). I hope you heal quickly! BTW – I tagged you. I know how much you love that. š In light of your current predicament however, feel free to skip it if you want to, I don’t want to add to your pain.
Open hear surgery! Yikes! As a baby?? Then these nicks and cuts are child’s play to you, right? š
Please tell me you at least have fun with your injuries and make up great stories about them when people ask, i.e. “Oh, that? Just a little bar fight,” or “You weren’t watching Springer?” or “Let’s just say I know firsthand that COPS is filmed live.”
Just this morning I found a small cut on my finger and I have no idea how and where it happened. I was the one in my family that the doctors and local hospital knew because accidents and incidents always happened to me.
I feel your pain…really I do.
I never get sick, but…I get “wounded” all the time. Wife is frequently asking, “who is bleeding all over such and such?” Oops…that’d be me.
A lifetime of riding horses, including foxhunting, has also contributed to assorted broken bones.
Glad to know there are others out there like this! I will note a new bruise on my leg about 2x a week and wonder where the heck it came from because I have no idea and can’t remember injuring myself! *G* Have you tried the liquid band-aid stuff? It works, it stings, but it works.
Robin, check your email! I had more to say, so I replied that way. š
Alyssa, it does make it harder to complain about stubbing my toe when I have a big ol’ scar on my chest, but somehow I still manage. š
Pam, I don’t, but now that you mention it, I have no idea why that hasn’t occurred to me because, well, I love to make up stories. And who wants to answer, “What happened to you?” the same way each time? Boring! Oh, and I’m tickled that you have your blog up. Yay!
Dru, I know what you mean! I seriously don’t know where half of my injuries came from. It’s like some freak sci-fi thing where someone in another dimension got injured and it showed up on my skin instead. (Clearly I’m not lacking in imagination, even if I am lacking in coordination!)
J.L., I love the “Who is bleeding” question. That’s hilarious! And, yes, it sounds like you are choosing some more dangerous activities. Of course, reading and opening letters are dangerous if you’re prone to paper cuts, so nothing is really safe.
Bookmom, I haven’t tried the liquid Band-aids, but I watched my husband apply some just a few days ago, and from the way he winced it didn’t look like anything I’d want to apply to a part of my body that was already in significant pain. But I may try it just once, just to see. Thanks for the recommendation!