Cadavers and Coffee: Get Back Up Again

Monday afternoon, while I was talking on the phone to Barrett, I headed downstairs to go outside and see the sunshine. While on the second stair down, Max (our wonder dog) brushed past me. The next thing I know I was in the air, landed on the next stair down right on my tailbone, then somehow sprung forward and landed flat on my belly and face in the entryway by the front door. The phone had gone flying out of my hand and hit the wall, and poor, worried Barrett could hear me sobbing loudly. Boy that hurt!!! One second I was chatting happily, and the next I was on the ground. I insisted I was okay, though in pain, and less than an hour later was headed to baseball practice with Matthew. I still hurt. Today is Wednesday, and I am eating Ibuprofen every four hours, which makes me feel slightly better. It hurts to bend, to stand-up, to sit-down, to get in and out of cars...you know, all the normal daily things we do and never think about. Once I am standing or sitting or even driving I feel okay, but all the transitional movements hurt. I had signed up to volunteer both Monday and Tuesday at the Pregnancy Center, and I was not about to miss that. Though it was slow, I am glad I was there yesterday to take a few calls, and to be one of a handful of staff to speak to a very nervous, very scared, pregnant girl. I am thinking of her today, and the way that her life will change, and hoping that she felt support yesterday no matter what she decides to do.

Last night I was so antsy. Why is it that when we feel fine, we want to sit on the couch and when we hurt we are antsy to move? I wanted to go for a bike ride (more about that in a minute) or go rollerblading-both terrible ideas with the fact that my movement is painful and somewhat limited! I convinced Barrett to go with me and the kids to the park after dinner where we could walk and they could ride bikes. It was very nice, though it may have contributed to even more soreness today. Tonight there is baseball practice, tomorrow a field-trip with Matt's class, and tomorrow night soccer practice. Thank God Isaiah's swimming lessons begin next week! I am so thankful I only got hurt in the way I did, with falling down basically the entire flight of stairs, it could be so much worse. I am reminded not to take little activities I can normally do for granted, and I am also a tad bit annoyed as I think I don't have time for this! :)

I promised I'd come back to the bike thing. I am going to sound like a complete weirdo, but I have HATED bicycles since I was about 12. I learned to ride late as it was. I think I was 9 when I was finally riding with no training wheels. I am a control freak, with perhaps too much self-preservation instincts. When I was about 12 I was visiting family in Oregon and borrowed my cousin's bike, which was not only too short for me at the time, but also had no handle brakes, and I went riding down this big hill. I accumulated a ton of speed, panicked and could not stop...so I stuck my toes (wearing flip-flops) out to break the impending fall. I scraped a chunk of my big toe off, both palms of my hands, my chin, my knee and my elbow. I didn't break anything (never have), but I still have scars in two places from the accident. I think it was about 14 years until I got back on a bike. They terrified me. My ex-husband bought me a brand-new bike when I was about 26, and coaxed me to ride up and down our street. I did, but I shook with fear the whole time, wobbling around, and gripping the handles so tight I thought I would have permanent imprints on my palms. Barrett is a kind, gentle and patient teacher, and he was able to persuade me to ride down to the stop sign and back once from our house last year. We took my bike camping, and were surprised when we got there that it had two flat tires and the brakes were detaching. It looked like it had been sabotaged! And I promise I didn't do it. Somewhat relieved and somewhat annoyed, I got on Matthew's bike. And I was able to ride it around camp again and again, though obviously too small for me. I was no longer nervous!! The boys cheered me on, and I felt silly but glad to act out what I tell them-Get back up and try again. Then it dawned on Barrett and I one of the problems I felt with my bike-it was too tall for me. I am only 5'2 1/2 tall, and the bike is 26 inches, and I can only touch the ground, barely, on tiptoe. I know some people like that, but for me, it is scary that I am too far up. I thought I was the only freak that felt this way until I started reading posts online from short girls like me, saying that they are most comfortable on 24 inch wheel bikes, and many have even gone to bike shops (instead of just Target) and gotten fitted for a bike they are comfortable on. I am so relieved! Perhaps when I am healed up, I can actually begin (at the age of 31!!) to enjoy riding a bike and can do it with my family. :) Feel free to laugh at my fear..it's ok, but let me remind you that we all have fears that may seem silly to others, but are often grounded in something that matters to us.