Sunday, August 27, 2006

I dislocated my elbow yesterday.

The first thought that came to me was this can't be happening, not to me at least. Everything was so surreal, I remember wondering if it was a dream. I have never, in my entire life of sporting experience, ever had any major accidents. No sprains, no tear, no shock -- a clean record.

I remember falling from midair, remember breaking the fall with my left arm. I remember feeling something dislodge, remember seeing my lower arm dangling at an awkward angle. I remember attempting to adjust it back using my right hand, remember finally collapsing on the baked netball court, incapable of moving, the bright sun shining into my eyes.

My classmates surrounded me, peering, looks of concern, of sympathy, of helplessness. T'was funny how at that point in time, I knew the extent of the damage. I knew I needed the hospital, an ambulance. I just wished they could hurry, 'cause it hurt like hell. It annoyed me a little to know that in the entire school population nobody knew what to do.

I didn't know what I was doing, lying there on the ground. We took class pictures, joked around, laughed, and took more pictures. And all the time, the pain was killing me, eating me up. I tried to hold my breath to alleviate it, tried to think of happy thoughts, but all that flooded my mind was the dinner I was gonna miss.

It seemed like a million years before the paramedics finally arrived. I never felt more relief. I was wrapped up and sent to Alexandra. I talked to the medics, the nurses, the doctors, the radiologists, if only to distract myself from the pain, and keep my sanity. They sedated me with ketamine(to shut me up, probably), and almost immediately, everything started swimming around me, and I was gone.

When I regained a little consciousness, the pain wasn't there anymore, but the world was whirling and I remember slurring about neurones, dendrites and action potentials before I fell asleep again. When I finally woke up, my head was still spinning. My arm was in a cast, but the pain was completely gone.

I wanted to get out of that place, wanted to get back to life. Couldn't be happier to leave, save a little sad I had to leave the new friends I made there.

I guess I have to be thankful it's not my writing arm that was injured. But nevertheless, I just hope it heals fast, heals well.

It's tough to get used to doing things single-handedly. It never occured to me how much my hands cooperate everyday. Now I'm down to one, I have to get used to mono-tasking, of doing things a rate slower. I need a new arm.

Lend a hand, anyone?

writing at 12:10 AM

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