Adventures of Me

Elastic Heart

Running full speed to win a race to the ball in a soccer game I just beat my opponent to the ball ( I know, you are surprised) but he stuck his foot out and after I hit the ball I hit his foot and began to fall to the ground.  I braced for impact with my hands extended on the track around the field and the rest is a bit blurry.  I had broken my wrist in a few places.  I tried to tough it out, but, after seeing a few people look at my wrist and almost puke I figured I better get it looked it.  One of the guys gave me an ice pack and another wrapped my wrist so the ice would stay with an ace bandage and he said “this will help you from passing out, do not under any circumstances take this off until you get to the hospital.  He knew if I looked at it I would pass out on the road.  I ran to the car and my brother, who was playing also ran over to make sure I was able to drive.  I said I’d be fine so he asked “Was that a dirty play, do I need to fight that guy?”.  I told him no need, it was a clean play.  I knew he would probably kill the guy so I figured no need to have two people in the hospital today.

Anyway, I drove myself to the hospital, and they knocked me out and set the wrist back in place.  I had a couple surgeries on it, and I was told I couldn’t work for a month or so.  I would just have to sit home while the wife went to work and the kids went to school.  The first day or so was great, but breaking my right wrist sucked.  I write righty, I change the channel on the tv with my right hand, I do most everyday things with my right hand.  Trust me these are just things you do not ever think you need to think about.

Anyway, around day 3 or 4 or so I decided to get my fat ass up off the couch and just walk up and down the street.  I needed to see the sun and I needed to get of the house before the walls caved in on me.  The wife and kids both out being normal people at school and work and I was just home trying to see if I could walk up and down the street without crying from the pain.  As I walked in the house feeling a little better about myself I realized I had to take a shit.  It was the first one in a while.  The meds had blocked me up from having to do that, which I think is very common.  Anyway, I rush to the toilet and take care of business, and it’s not the cleanest one I have every had, a little diarrhea, cha cha cha…

Well, I finish and look at the toilet paper roll and immediately start sweating.  It is at this moment I realize I broke my RIGHT hand.  I wiped my ass with my right hand for 35 years or so to this point.  It is at that moment my left hand is needed.  He is being called up to the big leagues without ever really playing in a game before.  No one was home to help, with the exception of the dog, and something tells me he wasn’t going to be of any assistance.   So, I do my best, trying desperately to not get any shit on my cast and I do what men and women have done for hundreds of years and wipe my ass.  I’m sweating just typing this, remembering the sheer panic I felt the moment I realized this wasn’t going to be like any other shit, this was going to be something I would remember forever.

After a couple weeks I started to get myself off the pain pills, I used weed and ibuprofen to help with that.  The pills, while they helped with the pain also made me extremely depressed.  I’m glad it was easy for me to get off them.  Still to this day, when I am offered a strong pain med for something I might take it once or twice but I try to switch to an over the counter thing as quick as I can.

After I got the cast off and started my rehab I would wear this protective brace to the gym or even if I went out for a run.  I wore it long after my wrist was healed.  Finally, about a year after my surgery I forgot the brace at home and I was forced to do a workout at the gym without it.  I survived and tossed the brace in the trash.  But, I started to wear an elastic on my wrist, just as a little reminder to me of what I went thru.  I actually wear two of them now because I was scared one would break and I would have a backup ready. I keep elastics in my work bag, gym bag, car and office just in case.  If one of the elastics gets a little loose I replace it with another one from any of my hiding spots.

While the elastics seem trivial they actually have lots of meaning for me.  I learned a lot about myself during all those lonely hours sitting at home.  They are my reminder that people go thru lots of shit before you may ever see them.  When I am pissed off that someone is driving 10 mph under the speed limit I catch myself glancing at the elastics and take a deep breath and try to just appreciate my surroundings.  Sounds really dumb I know, but the elastics are just my reminder to be a better person.  To have empathy for others, to just understand that we are all doing this life thing together and it’s easier to just be a nice person.

And if I need a laugh, I look down at these elastics and I remember the first time I had to wipe my ass lefty.  Life is strange, life is lots of times boring, but, sometimes just when you think you have seen it all or have nothing new to learn about yourself you stare at a roll of toilet paper and regret not being ambidextrous.

 

 

 

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