Making Mountains.

Making Mountains.

I was recently stabbed.

People always tell you not to try to pry apart two things, say perhaps frozen breaded eggplant cutlets, by sliding a sharp knife between them. Well, I did, and now I can honestly say I’ve been stabbed.

I was also able to honestly bow out of being a Super Star Parent at my kid’s karate class, what they call those of us who help with drills, on account of my self-inflicted knife wound.

This is actually my second self-inflicted knife wound in five months. Last time it was slicing lettuce and, subsequently my thumb, while distracted. My kid wasn’t in karate then so I suffered without having any real need to tell anyone or bow out of things. I had passed on the tetanus shot, but sensing a recurring theme, I went and treated myself to one this time around. It’s the little things, you know?

I’m not sure if it’s my perpetual distraction, the expeditious approach of middle age, or some other completely blamable thing, but I find I’m injuring myself with increasing frequency these days. I suspect it is in my best interest to keep the pain reliever within arm’s reach, since my next mishap is likely only days away. A cut, a burn, a trip-and-fall over nothing at all… all commonplace it seems. Bruises appear everywhere on a daily basis with little to no evidence as to what specific incident caused them. That is, of course, except for the near-constant hematoma on my right arm, just below the elbow, which is most definitely a result of walking into the doorknob in the hallway on my way to the kitchen every single day.

I used to laugh at my mother because she was forever tripping and falling or coming up injured in some way. She fell down a stair and broke her foot. She fell and twisted her knee. She wore a brace to alleviate the pain of carpal tunnel syndrome. She pinched a nerve falling down an entire flight of stairs (OK, that time she was pushed, but that’s another matter for another time). Always hurt, though. Always.

It was funny, to an extent, because she was just so damn accident prone. It was embarrassing to me when I was a teenager because the casts and walking boots and braces and slings seemed such spectacle at the time. It really upset me that she constantly bowed out of things, though I was never going to admit it at the time. And it was scary as hell when it ended up being multiple sclerosis, a disease with no known cause or cure.

But that’s not me, right? To draw parallels between the two would be silly and irresponsible. I’m a rational woman and I’m not going to let my mind go there.

I’ll just curl up into the corner of my couch here, and wait for my hand to heal. I’ll just watch TV or something. I’m not going to brood. I won’t make mountains out of mole hills. I won’t blow things out of proportion.


Joining my friends at yeah write on the challenge grid. Come read.

36 Responses to “Making Mountains.”

  1. shailajav says:

    Okay you need to be careful! That being said, your mom sounds like mine! The number of times she has hurt herself is something I’ve lost track of.

    • michellelongo says:

      Here’s the scary thing: I can’t even tell you how many near misses there are when I’m less careful. I guess some people are just accident prone!

  2. Sarah says:

    Ouch! Fingers crossed that you are merely accident-prone, and that there isn’t something a little more sinister at work.

  3. Fingers crossed that you are just a klutz.

  4. No, it’s not you. It’s easy (and frightening) to draw parallels from our parents, especially because yes, we definitely get things from them. But that doesn’t mean we’re chained to those things. (Right?)
    By the way, I love the way you constructed this. Worries do flow into each other, don’t they?

  5. aishasoasis says:

    Terrific account of life’s little mishaps! I cracked up about the door knob because I have a perpetually near-fatal attraction to those blasted things too!

  6. first, your blog looks great. so clean and sophisticated. second, i am a walking knife disaster. See?
    And third, projectile worrying never did anyone any good. These years of trying to balance it all always lead to dropping things. Don’t worry.

  7. If it makes you feel better, I walk around with black and blue marks absolutely everywhere without a single clue as to how I got any of them. It’s just one of those things. It’s so hard to keep the worries at bay, but I try and remind myself that getting caught up on the “hamster wheel” of worry just makes everything worse.

  8. I’m sure it’s so easy to draw parallels, but hopefully you’re just clumsy! Having kids and middle age can be just enough distraction to make us accident prone!

  9. This is exactly why I am afraid of knives.

  10. Stacie says:

    I broke my foot falling down stairs 2 years ago. And I have “mystery” bruises everywhere. So no worry spirals, ok? Is it bad to admit that you had me laughing? Love your words.

    • I’m not sure if I knew how you broke your foot. I can’t promise no more worry spirals ever, but I will try to be more rational about them. And I’m glad you’re laughing, because the whole thing is so stupid it’s funny. Well, now anyway. At the time it wasn’t funny at all 😉

  11. I love how you’re able to weave different themes into one delicious tale. And I KNOW I shouldn’t use a knife to separate frozen things (like veggie patties), I still do. But now I’ll be extra careful.

    • I had intended to slide the knife in a little and twist it to separate like I’ve done a zillion times in the past. But then it wouldn’t go and I pushed harder and then it went. I’m surprised you didn’t hear me scream :)
      Thanks for the kind words, glad you enjoyed this!

  12. That’s why you have 10 fingers – spares.

  13. C.C. says:

    I love how you mixed both funny and serious into this post. Great read. I’m a danger to myself with kitchen knives too….take-out is safer for everyone involved!

  14. outlawmama says:

    I’m feelng this for you and with you. I am bumping into things, dropping things, and it’s driving me nuts and hurting my body. Stay safe girl! No ice picks for you.

  15. I’m constantly finding bruises all over my legs. Don’t even remember bumping into anything. I think I’m distracted running to and fro. But please be careful when using knives. Ouch.

  16. christi74 says:

    Some things will always be more than they are to us. My mom had rheumatoid arthritis and was always in some sort of brace or cast. Even her rings were braces for her fingers. That kind of thing really sticks with you, as a daughter.

  17. Stacie says:

    Testing to see if this goes to moderation. You can delete it later if you want 😉

    • michellelongo says:

      It did go to moderation and I approved it because I don’t want to confuse things by not approving a comment of yours. But then I felt the need to explain why I’d leave such a comment up.

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