This week, I took a header down half a flight of stairs.
That's not a metaphor, although I wish it was. I was in a hurry to get to an event, and in my rush I stumbled on the stair in my apartment. I fell headfirst down seven steps, striking my head at the bottom. All week I've been reassuring people by saying that it could have been much worse, and it certainly could have. I am fortunate that I had two friends present to help me out when my head started bleeding, and another who drove me to the hospital to get stitches. I am grateful that my mom was within driving distance, to come and hold my hand while a doctor poked needles in my face, and I am lucky that I did not end up with a concussion or broken bones.
In the end, I wound up with ten stitches in my forehead, not one but two black eyes, a second-degree rug burn (which I didn't even realize was possible), and some of the most colorful bruises I've ever had. I also earned myself a four-day prescription for Norco, a strong painkiller similar to Vicodin. I had never experienced a traumatic injury on this level before, nor had I been on pain medication for any extended period of time. Here are some things I discovered over the course of my long, weird week.
1. People are more willing to help than we may give them credit for.
I'll admit it-- I'm not great at asking for help. I'm sometimes independent to a fault, and I like to be able to get things done on my own. Usually going my own way works out fine, but at times like this there's simply no way to go it alone. This week, I was thankful to find that I am surrounded by a community that cares about my well-being. My friends, family, and even professors banded together to ensure that I got the help and support I needed to get back on my feet as soon as possible. I know that not everyone is so privileged, and I am so grateful for the cupcakes that people brought me, the extensions that my teachers offered, and even the text messages checking in. It meant a lot to know that, should I need it, I have people by my side.
2. Prescription strength painkillers totally suck.
Allow me to clarify: Norco was great at doing what it was made to do. I was in extreme pain the first several days after my injury, and I would have been stuck crying in bed if I didn't have some way to manage that pain. However, the side-effects were awful for me. I didn't feel particularly happy, as some people claimed I would, I just felt totally out of it. I wasn't able to do schoolwork, I wasn't able to write, I wasn't even able to read. I couldn't do much of anything except watch TV and post woozily on my friends' social media pages.
When I try to think back on my week, it's all a haze. There were a couple of events that I dragged myself to and which I vaguely recall, but other than that everything blends into mush. I know I talked to my boyfriend on Skype for almost two hours, but I can't remember a single thing that we discussed. It is so utterly unnerving to me to have four days of my life effectively scrubbed from my memory. If I never have to touch the stuff again, I'll be grateful.
3. Head trauma gives you a lot of feelings.
When I first fell, I wasn't at all expecting the adventure that this was going to turn into. I didn't even realize that I needed to go to the hospital until one of my friends pointed out that I would probably need stitches. Then I spent several days in a medically-induced cloud, not really feeling much of anything, before finally crashing back into reality five days later. I found myself petrified to go up or down the stairs. At one point I had to crawl up on all fours and still had a panic attack when I made it to the top.
Although not technically PTSD, as several of my friends have suggested, I definitely have trauma related anxiety surrounding my fall, which is likely compounded by my pre-existing mental health problems. On top of that, I found myself feeling angry, irritated, and sad without any particular cause. I had to practice accepting those feelings as they come. Eventually I'm sure the stairs and I will get back on speaking terms.
4. It's okay to be upset.
While it's true that my fall could have been much worse, it also could have not happened at all. That would have been the real ideal. I've been doing my best to focus on the positive, but the reality is that even though I was very, very fortunate in some ways, in many other ways my situation totally sucks. I'm graduating from college in a week, something that I've been looking forward to for more than a decade, and I'm going to have to do it with a big ugly wound on my face. I had four major academic events last week to celebrate the end of my senior year-- I had to miss one of them entirely, and the other three I can barely remember.
It isn't fair and I'm not happy. I'm thankful that I'm okay (all things considered), but I'm also really ticked off that this happened at all. I'm mad at myself for rushing down the stair, mad at inanimate objects for lashing out at me so ruthlessly, and mad at nature for not healing me faster. And it's okay to feel that, too.
5. Take your time on the stairs.
Seriously. Wherever you're going, running down the stairs to save an extra five seconds is not worth it.
It may sound funny, but it's true in a lot of ways. Drive carefully. Look both ways before you cross the street. Wait your turn at the intersection. No matter where you're headed or how late you're running, it is always, always better to get there late than to not get there at all.
Sometimes, the best thing that you can be is safe.
