Driveway Rash
This would be "road rash's" cousin... I suppose I will never learn "not to run in the house" or out of it for that matter. I have always had this strange urgency to run up my driveway to my car or run down the driveway to my house. I cannot walk. This driveway does not allow the word "walk" in its vocabulary.
So I found myself heading out to the car to get something out of the trunk. I walked out the back door. I walked down the stairs from the deck. But once I hit solid ground... I RAN... but not for long. The driveway that had been my running buddy for over 2 decades turned on me...
I have run up that driveway 1000s of times in my life and have never fallen, not even once. Today everything changed. The driveway reached up and grabbed my foot... I began to fall... slow motion style... to the ground. I have always chuckled to myself when I hear "old people" recount falling and how they "just don't roll like they used to." Well, I think I've become an old person because I sure as hell didn't roll. I hit my driveway like a ton of bricks. First came the hands... I felt one hit followed by a bolt of pain, the second hit moments later with keys in hand and I knew that one was gonna leave a mark. Next came the knee... oh, god, not the knee that has been plagued with pain and stiffness for the past few months... oh, yes, that knee. I could feel the sting of a nice ripe strawberry (I hoped for the best) through my pants. Why didn't I roll? I'm only 24. I'm too young for this kind of fall... the kind of fall that causes bones to break, and egos to bruise...
But alas, I was on a mission... I needed that bag (of miscellaneous items) from my car. And by god, I was going to get it. So I walked it (hobbled) off and got the bag. Once inside, I could tell that my limbs were going to retaliate against me. My hands began to sting uncontrollably. My knee was already stiffening up and becoming glued to my pants.
Headed to the bathroom my mother could only bow her head in disbelief as she scavenged for medical supplies as if I were 4 years old and just fell on the playground. I knew it was coming... "When are you going to learn how to walk?"... I ignored her. With hydrogen peroxide staring me in the eyes, I defiantly chose to clean my wounds with tap water. I'll rely on my own immune system to take care of these little puppies. I had had enough pain for one night. So, the irrigation process was complete but I still had to take care of the debridement process... carefully trimming those poor pieces of skin that had been torn from my hands and knee. Finally, at long last Bandaids were applied so that I didn't bleed all over the house.
I have this nagging feeling that I'm not as young as I used to be... and tomorrow is going to hurt a lot more than when I was 4 years old...
So I found myself heading out to the car to get something out of the trunk. I walked out the back door. I walked down the stairs from the deck. But once I hit solid ground... I RAN... but not for long. The driveway that had been my running buddy for over 2 decades turned on me...
I have run up that driveway 1000s of times in my life and have never fallen, not even once. Today everything changed. The driveway reached up and grabbed my foot... I began to fall... slow motion style... to the ground. I have always chuckled to myself when I hear "old people" recount falling and how they "just don't roll like they used to." Well, I think I've become an old person because I sure as hell didn't roll. I hit my driveway like a ton of bricks. First came the hands... I felt one hit followed by a bolt of pain, the second hit moments later with keys in hand and I knew that one was gonna leave a mark. Next came the knee... oh, god, not the knee that has been plagued with pain and stiffness for the past few months... oh, yes, that knee. I could feel the sting of a nice ripe strawberry (I hoped for the best) through my pants. Why didn't I roll? I'm only 24. I'm too young for this kind of fall... the kind of fall that causes bones to break, and egos to bruise...
But alas, I was on a mission... I needed that bag (of miscellaneous items) from my car. And by god, I was going to get it. So I walked it (hobbled) off and got the bag. Once inside, I could tell that my limbs were going to retaliate against me. My hands began to sting uncontrollably. My knee was already stiffening up and becoming glued to my pants.
Headed to the bathroom my mother could only bow her head in disbelief as she scavenged for medical supplies as if I were 4 years old and just fell on the playground. I knew it was coming... "When are you going to learn how to walk?"... I ignored her. With hydrogen peroxide staring me in the eyes, I defiantly chose to clean my wounds with tap water. I'll rely on my own immune system to take care of these little puppies. I had had enough pain for one night. So, the irrigation process was complete but I still had to take care of the debridement process... carefully trimming those poor pieces of skin that had been torn from my hands and knee. Finally, at long last Bandaids were applied so that I didn't bleed all over the house.
I have this nagging feeling that I'm not as young as I used to be... and tomorrow is going to hurt a lot more than when I was 4 years old...
posted by Nikki Reed Difani at 8:00 PM
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