Katie vs. the Fridge

fridge-001

I am obsessed with my face: how it looks and how it feels.  It huuuuuurts.  My nose is swollen.  At least I don’t have a black eye.  Or two black eyes!  I am glad my nose isn’t broken…  It could be.  I fell into my fridge.  The kind of fall where you can’t even react to catch yourself.  There was no way to catch myself: my brain was misfiring like a son-of-a-bitch.  Shoulder, face, knee, floor.  I suffer the bruises for days and wonder if perhaps I gave myself a concussion.  How do you tell when everything hurts?

I assume my nose would hurt even more if it was broken.  It would look worse.  But it hurts plenty.  The bruises are beginning to spread.  I can tell my face is swollen and discolored around the bridge of my nose.  Bam!!  Into the fridge.  Everybody who thinks I’m a faker, a lazy person who just doesn’t want to work, may I offer my face up for evidence.  Evidence item B would be my arm, which looks much worse and feels much worse than my face.  It took the first fall, into the side of the fridge.  The bruises are just starting to emerge.  The deep muscle contusion is already black and blue and purple and red.  My knee is bruised and my back feels twisted.  That’s a usual feeling after an convulsion.  All those neurons and muscles firing and clenching and releasing.  And there’s no-one there to put your hands up when you fall during a seizure.  I’m gone.  Head falls, there’s no breakfall.  The ground is my enemy.  I guess so is the fridge now.  I had to ask my kids, you can call them to the witness stand, “What happened?”  My consciousness was unconscious.  I didn’t even realize I found myself on the floor covered in cinnamon twists my husband made.  I had been trying to put them away in the fridge, but my brain had other plans for me.

They first thing I can remember is my daughter asking me if I was okay and if I took my medicine.  I said that I was fine and why was she asking me that?  What gave her cause to ask?  She told me I had a seizure.  It was news to me.  I did not yet hurt.  I didn’t remember the floor or the fridge.  I got the full story from my son, he added that I was leaning in the fridge.  I remembered that I had been doing something before I felt the familiar wave of dangerous impulses and misfiring neurons.

How I hate my brain.  Would you trust a brain that made you fall on your face while putting food away in the fridge?  I’m so glad my nose isn’t broken although it is certainly bruised.  I am icing all of the parts of me in a steady rotation.  My arm should have been up and reaching for something to catch me as I fell.  That’s how normal people fall, they use their arms to catch themselves and protect their faces from the shelves of the fridge and the floor.  No, not me.  My arm was a dead weight lucky to absorb the brunt of the impact first.  There’s that at least.  My arm hit the fridge first, then my face.  That’s what I can gather from the evidence, my bruises and my children’s testimony.  I have no memory of the event at all.  I don’t know how much time I lost.  I do know that for days and days I will feel like I am swimming underwater with my breath held for too long.  My lungs are screaming to breathe in, even though I know I would only suck in water and drown.

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