Sunday, April 5, 2009
I cracked my EFFING head OPEN.
My Love and I fell backwards down the stairs while we were making out. We were swaying and doing our best version of a scene from a romance novel, dancing without music, that whole schtick-when we closed our eyes and BAM, thud, thud- that's the sound of my HEAD cracking on the corner of the wall, then slamming into the terracotta floor. We had so much momentum and a complete lack of control, I reached up and blood was POURING from my skull, sexy.
....apparently when My Love reached to pick me up, out of my screaming PAIN and HORROR, I smacked his hands and said, "DO SOMETHIIIIINNNNG!!!!!!!!!" Sure enough, in moments of pain the only person I trust is still my Father. "Call my Daddyyyyyyyyy!!"
There's truly nothing more terrifying than blood coming from your head. Not to mention, then my-crazy-voice went off and I was convinced I'd be the next Natasha Richardson. Instead of driving me to the emergency room, since I have no insurance (Obama? Can we move that cheap-insurance-idea into action por favor?) we rushed to my parents house and I was then monitored every two hours for the rest of the evening for brain damage, "Who are you? What happened to you? How old are you? Who do you love?" My Love slipped that one in there a few times.
We successfully pulled through our first physical trauma and I officially terrified My Love to the point of complete distraught...I'm certain he will never want to encounter me when I go through childbirth, I will be the woman who screams so loud it'll be penned a new form of birth control for all onlookers (which if things go as planned, is not for a really long time)
Anytime your body goes through something intense and out of the ordinary you're reminded just how fragile, brittle, insignificant, we really are. I batter my body up, I pour liquor in droves down it, push it's physical limits any time I get the chance, and occasionally fill my arteries with salt and cream cheese frosting. I've treated my body like it's never going anywhere. Like it's steel. Like it's immortal. Then a slip rocks your entire world back into reality- you.are.delicate.breakable. there's no shatterproof disclaimer on your birth certificate.
Our body, like things, is just as temporary.
The fact that, that could have been much more tragic than it turned out to be sent me into three days of grasping at everything- with the ultra awareness that- eventually it all goes away.
Eventually our bodies can't handle as much bruising. Eventually friendships fade, jobs become less exciting, your house isn't the new anymore, the sparks need a little fanning. Eventually all good things turn into something else, sometimes something better, sometimes something worse.
All this awareness has set off my fear, fear of my health, fear of love, of loss: After loving so intensely and then getting your heart broken there's this looming fear that someday someone will just stop loving you. Without any change on your side. Blame it on the head trauma but I've feared so irrationally that someday I'll lose him. I have to remind myself that the only way you get to forever is one day at a time.
So without clinging to hard, I've tried to just tune in. Be aware. Without waving any banner of cliched, "live in the moment" what not's, I want to be able to sink my teeth into it and enjoy every bite instead of worrying about what I'll eat for breakfast tomorrow.
Off to Washington on a press trip in the morning- four days of wine tastings and dining- expect some sweet blogs ;) Hope you all had a good weekend....and yes, my head is healing just fine.