Losing and Regaining Balance

The night before flying out to an 8 day writer’s retreat in California, I fell and hurt my arm. I knew it wasn’t your normal get-run-into-by-the-dog fall, nor was it like fighting with weeds and falling over backward. This really fucking hurt. 

It hurt so much that I didn’t think about any kind of pain killer, not even the 5 year old, travel size container of Advil in my beauty bag.

(I did look up whether or not one should fly with a hematoma. However, I don’t recommend doing that until you are about to board.)

Because of my arm, I had no choice but to pull out clothes, to lighten my carry on, in the airport parking garage before flying out. Not only was I unable to lift the bag into an overhead bin, I could barely wheel it with my good arm that was already saddled by my 20 pound personal item.

That really stung because I spent 3 weeks trying on outfits. I’m a master packer. Fortunately, to tie all my outfits together, I had a stretchy scarf in different shades of blue. I fashioned it into a sling and it blended well with the lengthening bruise on my arm.

I was physically uncomfortable most of the time away, but mentally, I loved every second.

I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much time using my right hand and pretty much nothing else. It just wrote and wrote and wrote.

The rest of my body was in a conundrum, “Shouldn’t we be hiking, breathing in that red wood air, practicing yoga, helping to stack chairs, or drinking box wine? What’s going on?”

“Take this opportunity to take a break” my heart and mind said, as they flexed and posed for each other.

And it did.

Back home, after losing my luggage due to a tight red eye connection and seeing mom,  I went to the Urgent Care Center in town. X rays showed a fracture on the humeral tuberosity.

They set me up with an orthopedist appointment and gave me a shot in my good  arm.

That shot was the mother of all injections. It took two hours before it stopped throbbing. But man did it work. My hurt arm was so painless that I wondered if I had been faking all along.

The next day, the orthopedist  concurred with the reading.

“Considering it’s had almost 2 weeks healing time, we will x ray again in 2 more weeks and then start rehab. I can’t believe all you had was 10 advil, the first weeks can be really painful.”

“Are you saying I’m really tough because I didn’t have much pain medication? I want to tell my mom.”

“Yes, you are really tough.” She flashed me a no-nonsense grin.

I knew it.