And I'm in pain.
I'm kinda pissed off too.
It's a terrible combination.
Today's been a bad day for pain, but it's been the first time in a long while that I've had to be near so many people and that limping in is so ridiculously obvious. I mean the quarter mile long corridor through the COA isn't any place you can hide your stride especially when you're moving with a zombie shuffle... so I drew a lot of stares and exclamations. It's nice that people care, but I don't know... I just feel wimpy or like it looks like I'm trying to play up drama. It makes me mad because the story is so weird. No - it's an old injury, don't worry about me. It's okay. But then I get asked "why, what happened?" Maybe I should just start lying about it... but until I find a good cover story here's the truth:
Fourteen years ago I was a student at Boston University. They don't play up there and they warn you about the cars the minute you set foot on that campus. I tell everyone who gripes about the train that runs through Uptown Columbus - you just don't know how bad it could be... because the first story I heard when I went to college was about a girl that crossed Commonwealth Ave and got hit by a car into the T rail and bounced into the other lane of traffic only to get hit by another car. This is 5 lanes across people! I still don't remember if the girl from the story lived (and was horribly maimed) or if she didn't survive.
But even though I took that gut wrenching story rather seriously, it didn't save me. Boston drivers are F*ing crazy. I mean it, expletive and all.
So a friend and I were walking to Deli Haus (long since removed from Comm Ave). It was late, dark, and the streets were pretty empty in our way-the-heck-off-campus housing. It was probably a couple mile walk to the Haus. We crossed the first 2 lanes of road, and the short sidewalk across the median to the other lanes of highway. We still had a red light when I started walking, but I didn't notice the time on the crosswalk. I just remember being in the middle of the road when I saw a cab turn out of a gas station a few yards up the road.
I remember thinking... Wow, that car isn't slowing down. I wonder if I can make this. Oh no, I can't turn around. Oh God, I should turn around, I can't turn around... I have to run."
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| Image from theethicalscumbag.blogspot.com |
and then it hit me.
But I don't remember it hitting me. I just remember my book bag hitting the wheel well of the cab on the passengers side. I only ever see it from an outsiders perspective now like I'm watching a short film. 14 years out I have fragmented memories. I see myself get hit in the right leg, spinning back into the car. My book bag bounces off. I hit the ground.
I was only two steps away from the curb. I remember getting up and looking at the cab stopped in the middle of the intersection. The light shone green above my head, my shoulder hurt and I wiped gravel on my hands. It took two steps to the curb. Two steps... I almost made it.
Before I even registered pain I looked up at the cab again. I was alive. The passenger in the back was waving his arms frantically. There were no other cars... there was no one else but my friend and I... so the cab drove away.
The walk past Fenway Park is dark in my head. I remember sitting in the Green Booths of the Deli Haus popping Advil with my leg propped up in the booth across from me. I couldn't take the pain so I finally caved and because of the late hour we had to walk another 2 miles up Comm Ave to the clinic. They told me nothing was wrong and so I've lived with the pain ever since.
It doesn't hurt all the time...and I think I've had it looked at once since the accident... but no one can tell me what's wrong. It gets a little worse every couple of years (as I get older and don't recover as quickly). Maybe it's nerve damage... I just can't have anything touch the back of my knee. The whole thing begins to well in searing pain, usually because I've pulled it, stressed it, or worn the wrong kind of shoes. Then if I don't rest it begins to feel like the muscles at the back of my knee are tearing and that someone is holding a flame to it at the same time. It's excruciating at times to the point where I can't breathe. The pain gets kind of exhausting and I can't do anything but fall asleep when I get home after getting the kids, but end up having to hobble around more to the tune of sleepless nights (like tonight).
Tiger Balm/ointments work a little. Sometimes an Epsom bath (but who has time for that?) but braces don't work... the touch of a pair of pants, a wrap, is enough to set off the pain again. And then, after a few days... if I limp around well enough and keep the pressure off the back of my knee (and get some sleep)... the pain goes away.
So today I did a lot of limping trying to keep the pain out... but I'm awake suffering with it again anyway. Really embarrassed because people noticed. Mad because I'm weak? Mad because I never should have run? Mad because I feel like it's my fault anyway? Mad because I guess I'll never be the runner I wish I was? Not like this, at least. Maybe I just feel that way because I hate being incapacitated... I hate having to explain. Now that I've gotten older I always try to downplay the story but all it does is become awkward dialogue about something I'd rather forget and not live with.
So because I couldn't sleep and I'm waiting for the Advil to kick in, I decided to write it down anyway.
It might be time to let it go. Can't call that cab driver up and tell him what a jerk he is... maybe it was his passenger flipping out saying "you gotta go, you hit that kid..." But then we all have hit and runs in life, even if it's not with a car.
I guess for now, I need to try to sleep. A little rest might fix this up for tomorrow, or at least get me on the right path. Until then, remember to look both ways before you cross the street.
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