I sat up on the tile floor in my wet bikini, stunned, holding a towel to my nose, trying to figure out my next move. I glanced at the pool. Two swimmers were still doing their laps. I needed to tell someone, but I couldn\u2019t get up. Not just because I was so shaken, but because I can\u2019t really get up off the floor very well at all anymore, no matter where I am.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I peered through the glass into the first floor gym and saw a woman motioning to a man while pointing up at me. It was clear she had seen what happened. She ran up the stairs to check on me. I told her I was okay, but I just needed ice. I was so worried my eye was going to swell shut. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
A minute later, she came back. This time with a trainer, but no ice. I wasn\u2019t sure where the communication had failed. I politely reiterated that I was okay, but if they could please just get me some ice. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The trainer came back. But with ice in a plastic cup.<\/em> I didn\u2019t have time to question how it was that a gym didn\u2019t have a single ice pack. I simply took the cup and asked if she wouldn\u2019t mind grabbing me a plastic bag from the locker room. I made my way to the chair. I texted my husband and told him I had a little fall and asked if he could pick up our older one. I would be home soon. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Strangers walking by asked if I was okay. \u201cYes, yes, thank you.\u201d It was awkward and uncomfortable. I still hadn\u2019t dressed. I was desperate to know what my face looked like. \u201cHow bad was it? Did I need to be worried? Is this what a concussion feels like?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I quickly realized I was too afraid to get up and move anywhere on my own. I texted my husband again asking if he could swing by after pick up. When he showed up, I looked at him and started sobbing. Sobbing for what had happened, sobbing for what I had put on him.(Just that morning his dad had surgery for a fractured hip from a fall the day prior.) <\/p>\n\n\n\n He held me, told me I didn\u2019t look too bad and then delicately walked me to my car. I went home. I was freezing. I showered and cried some more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My face was transforming by the minute. Did I have a periorbital fracture? Some sort of traumatic brain injury? We decided I should probably go to the urgent care. He ordered the CT from home before we left. He put me in a hospital wheelchair when we got there. It was the urgent care where he does his on-call shifts. They fast tracked me through to the scanner. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As the tech helped me lie down onto the machine, she asked if I had just been in a car accident. Of course she did. I couldn\u2019t blame her. I stared up at the painted cloud panels on the ceiling as my body slowly glided into the machine. A deep sense of loneliness overcame me- a notably strange and unfamiliar feeling for me. As tears quietly streamed down my face, I wondered how it was that this was my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m not sure what happened after that night. I don\u2019t know if the flood of gratitude and relief for it not having been worse washed away the majority of my emotional discomfort. (Can\u2019t say the same for my physical pain.) I don\u2019t know if my ability to bounce back so quickly was continued evidence of what feels like a more permanent residence in the land of acceptance around my disease. Or perhaps it was actually denial masquerading as acceptance as I rationalized why I didn’t have to worry or think too much about the next adaptation since after all, this accident happened while doing something I didn\u2019t need<\/em> to do. It wasn\u2019t essential to my daily functioning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What I do know is that I continued to be in awe of the human body- specifically the skin\u2019s ability to stretch and deflate and morph into so many colors throughout the healing process. (In my business, we call that defense \u201cintellectualization.\u201c) I know that I became an expert at using my younger son\u2019s yellow Halloween face paint for days afterwards to offset the purple bruising. And I know that eventually I felt like some sort of disabled warrior badass and stopped covering it up when I went out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A few days before Halloween, I fell. I fall on a semi-regular basis, so that part\u2019s unremarkable. As a self proclaimed \u201cgood faller,\u201d I\u2019ve always prided myself on getting away with just a banged up knee or bruised elbow. But this fall was different. This one landed me in the urgent care CT scanner a<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/livingwithhibm.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/01\/img_8695.jpg?resize=1024%2C823\")
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As it turned out, aside from some sinus issues and a deviated septum, I was okay. Nothing was broken.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Most of all, I knew that I wasn\u2019t going to let a deformed black eye interfere with trick-or-treating with my kids on Halloween night, so I did what anyone would do. I put on my costume, painted on a second black eye, got on my scooter and went out as a Raccoonicorn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/livingwithhibm.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/01\/img_8693.jpg?resize=1024%2C1024\")
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