We had stopped in the park for a quick rest and I seized the opportunity to enjoy the playground as always. Instinctively, I looked for physical challenges I might be able to overcome. It’s something I do pretty much non-stop. I check for ledges I can climb, jumps I can make, new ways to reach places by doing a few skips hops and jumps… So I figured a two metre standing jump from one platform to another was a piece of cake, right?
I’d learned a long time ago that rain never made jumps easy. I relearned that lesson today as I landed and slipped. Although I made it to the platform (something I later took noted satisfaction for), my left leg didn’t quite make it and my shin connected with the hard metal ledge. The pain was immediate and very intense. I rose to my feet, sucking in a deep breath and doing my best to shut out the pain, sending my chi (or trying to) to the source of the injury. By the time I opened my eyes and looked down, I realised my jeans were wet. I thought it was water, but after a second, I realised it was blood.
Rolling back my pant leg, I stared at a very nasty cut and a great deal of blood. I saw a glimmer of white, which I ignored for the moment but later found out was bone. I called out to Eugene and reached for my phone, but he yelled back not to call home. Then I explained to him, graciously and calmly, that I was quite badly hurt. He took a look and called home before I could. I called Bethwyn instead and told her messagebank what happened and that I loved her. Then I felt very, very dizzy and realised it was the blood lost. I lay down and then had the good sense to elevate my leg, resting it on part of the playground.
What happened then, simply, is that my parents arrived and drove me to hospital. I waited for around an hour and a half with minimal pain, propping my leg up on the seat in front of me. The Triad Nurse asked me why I hadn’t bandaged it or applied any pressure to stop the bleeding, and I honestly answered My Mum forbade it. I still can’t imagine why, but I’ll ask her later. So she dressed the wound for me and I was fine with minimal amounts of pain and some numbness. Fortunately, I’d asked Mum for a book and my glasses before we departed, so the time waiting was actually quite enjoyable. After another hour or so, I was called in by the doctor, who delivered a local anaesthetic to numb the area of the laceration. The anaesthetic was the most painful part of the ‘operation’- the five stitches I received were not quite as painful in comparison. A tetanus shot later I was discharged. Then I danced for a bit and ran around practicing Muay Thai on palmtrees.
Actually, I exaggerated that last part, but here I am, safe and home. Can’t get the wound wet for three days (though Dad insists I avoid it getting it wet until the stitches are removed in two weeks) but should be otherwise okay.
And that’s why, kids, we walk around. I’m not sure what I’ll do when I recover. Keep at free-running, or stop entirely? We’ll see in times to come. At any rate, I suspect I’ll be much more cautious, especially when it’s wet. Cheerio then!