first break

Here I am, on the first night of my long three-week stay in Green Bay, my three weeks that will get me through a theatre course, which actually, has been much more pleasant than I expected, and on the first, overly full and overly tiring day, at the end of that day, I decide to go for a walk with the dogs. My father is with me, and I have Penelope and Zephyr's leashes around my wrist (this is how I often like to walk them, so they don't slip away). And we run to catch up with my father and his two geriatric dogs (we have paused so we can get untangled, which is a frequent occurrence with my two). And it is a little wobbly on this ground, the pavement rolling with small pebbles, and there are those seconds where I can tell I'm going to fall, but I'm hoping I'll get my footing and the dogs will slow down, but this time I don't, and all of a sudden, I am toppling and my chin and chest and knees and hands are sliding along those little pebbles, road rash blooming on my skin. I don't realize it yet, but the impact of my left wrist on the pavement, catching the brunt of my fall, has fractured my left upper radial bone, cracked it at the very top, which allows for painful x-rays in an emergency room visit the next morning, but not a cast. A sling, and I avoid the pain medication as I don't want to be swimming in soupy brain waves while trying to instruct gifted and talented students, too brilliant for their own good. I must be on guard, after all, for any question I cannot answer, be prepared for their inquiry. It has only been twenty four hours and it's already been the best instructional experience I've ever had.

I've never broken a bone before. I have, however, spent some decent time in the hospital. When I was three, I had Kawasaki's, which meant I had to spend ten long days in the hospital, at one point my recovery being questioned. I was three, my tongue swelled up like a strawberry, and I had to learn to walk again. I remember my mother spending the night on an orange plastic coach and reading me Three Billy Goats Gruff. My sister spent some time in the hospital after she was in a serious car accident, which broke her leg and put her in intensive care after she had a stop-breathing reaction to the morphine. I returned again and again, at the specific times to the hospital when Yvonne was dying. And I went with Lani to the hospital when Eve was born, the only one least nervous enough to walk with her as she breathed, taking her down the hallway corridor.

The Fiance has broken several bones, has spent much time having to go to the hospital for small mishaps. His mother emailed the family, saying I've already become a K before we've even officially married. I feel ridiculous, breaking my arm in the company of the dogs, but I must emphasize: I was running and that pavement just jumped right up and bit me. I can't help my delicate elbows.