The last three days has given me occasion
to reflect on the nature of pain. It is odd
that such an accident would happen to me
just when I ws getting to understand how muscles
and nerves work, and how these are connected to
the brain.
My mind was not on the task of walking when this
happened. I was happily planning which shops I would
be hitting when I got to the shopping center. I was not far
from home, and there was someone across the street shovelling
his driveway.
The minute I hit the ground, I knew there was something very
wrong with my right arm, beneath me. I had slipped on the incline of
a driveway, sheer ice under a light layer of snow. (I am dangerous
to myself in this new climate. In my unquestioned experience, powdery
snow sits on top of pavement; well not these days...)
I immediately got up because I knew I was hurt, and all manner of
inconvenience would be coming my way. I wanted to just lie there;
but I didn't.
I crossed a very busy highway at a snail's pace, holding my arm.
No one called the police. Just as I neared home, a young man
was riding a dirt bike in circles in the snow. My dangling arm didn't
seem to impress him. I sat down in a bus shelter and took out my keys.
I still had my handbag draped across my body, and couldn't imagine how
I would ever remove it.
Made it to my appartment without encountering anyone. Slithered out
of my bag and coat and made it to my bed, which is when the convulsions
started. Not just through the arm, but my legs as well. I kept hearing the sing
song from the Montreal metro, when they close the door. And started to
shake as much, only it was all coming from me. My boots off (those sensible
flat all-weather ones, at that) I could at last relax and wait for the pain to stop;
only my arm felt like it was on a water bed. It would take me 24 hours to
accept tyat I woud never be able to remove my two seaters over my head.
I ended up cutting both to shreads with a variety of small scissors, and it took
a while. Lesson no 2: any movement performed with one hand is felt in
the circuitry of the other. I should have known that from my years of dance
lessons. One gives tension to the entire body, and things are less painful.
In those first hours, I couldn't tell whether the sweaters were pulling
on ecchymosis, or whether the pain was in my flesh; it was the latter.
Day two, cleaned up and wisened up about the state of things, I headed
half-dressed to a pharmacy for pain meds. The cold kept me alert, but I
was very frightened. The internet had told me it would take 72 hours before
I would feel normal enough to do little exercises. In fact, I had played
imaginay piano to myself (Mozart), right hand on left; everything was still connected.
Day three, the nightmare is over. Worst part ever; getting up from lying on my back.
I clutch the blankets. And since day 2, I sleep with a large sofa cushion behind my pillow.
Heck, I even weighed myself this morning, still on track.
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