Falling so hard yesterday really undid me. It was the hardest fall I’ve had that I can remember. I felt it all the way from my jaw to the tips of my fingers.
I’ve hurt myself before...standing up too quickly while picking something up on the ground right under the granite counter. That really did hurt. I felt like I would pass out but I didn’t.
Mentally, I’m cautious about going to the doctor for pain...my stomach, the pounding in my chest that went on for three or more days.
What i I know is that I try to talk myself down from the “ledge” so that I don’t seek medical treatment. Sometimes I think, “Just let the symptoms go on for a little longer. If you’re really hurt or sick, you’ll pass out or double-over, scream - (like I did when I hurt my back) or there will be some obvious reason to go.”
My thinking goes along the lines of, “I don’t want to go to the doctor if something isn’t truly wrong. I don’t want to waste the money. I don’t want to go and be told ‘everything is fine’.”
What’s weird about that thinking though is, it’s opposite of what I should be saying to myself, “I’ll go to the doc and confirm that nothing is wrong. I need to know. If one of the kids was feeling like this or Don or a friend, would I take that person to the doctor?” Yes.
The guilt remains on me. Go. Don’t go. Go and nothing is wrong. Don’t go and you’ve got something that doesn’t get checked as soon as it should.”
I weigh the odds. At times, the “not knowing” is more painful than the knowing.
The broken and bruised need to be cared for, their pain taken seriously. Most of the time there needs to be compassion, love, support.
I guess "technically" broken is worse than bruised. Bruises though are called contusions...that word gives me the creeps. Some go down really deep and if I hit it on something or press too hard, anyone around me will hear me.
Lives are filled with cracks, breaks, bruises, cuts and scrapes. It’s par for life's course.
Today, though, my injury started cause fear in me. My aches and pains started to cause me panic and anxiety. My body hurt from my jaw, down my arm and into my fingers. The result of the blow was hard to look at. My fingers were tingling and cold. I had range of motion, but I was worried about nerve damage or a break. Elevation didn’t help. Ice didn't help and neither did thinking about the “what if’s”. Those are the worst.
When I cried today, I knew it was time to go...
sometimes the bruises sting more than the breaks...