Over the years of my life it's become shockingly apparent how much the universe enjoys laughing at me.
Don't believe me? Oh just you wait..
I vaguely recall that while I was growing up I was a very...determined child. From climbing the refrigerator in my infancy to holding a very MAD bumblebee in my fist because by God was I going to keep it as a pet, no matter what the cost. Of course, there's nothing wrong with being determined. I think most kids are, actually. But determined and accident prone. That's when you start having some problems.
When you're a child, cuts, scrapes and bruises come with the territory. I've had to have stitches on my face about three times. I didn't get the memo about not irritating dogs and got my face bitten. I've been to the emergency room because of that age old question of childhood- 'I wonder if this will stay in my nose?'. And who knows how any injuries I sustained when, after far too many magical movies, I got it into my little head that I should be able to FLY-
The point IS, is that if it were a few cuts and bruises, well I could just write that off as life and get on with it.
No. This is something different.
I think the first time I really realized my predicament was when I was ten and on vacation with my family. I look back now and see that this joke has been played on me for a while, but that vacation is when I started thinking 'You know...this is kinda ridiculous..'
What happened? We were taking a road trip to chicago. It was taking us forever and a half to get there and there were eight of us all crammed into one car together, so naturally there would need to be a stopping point midway or my mother would kill us all.
So my siblings and I were playing on the playground near the camping ground we were at. I was swinging, minding my own, innocent business, when suddenly the swing tipped for some unknown reason and I fell onto the ground
Yeah, I landed pretty heavily on my arms. Obviously it hurt and I started crying as Sara started running in circles loudly announcing her concern to the world. But some serious Advil, some gummy bears and an hour or so later I was good to go. My arms still hurt, so I spent the week we were in Chicago in two arm splints, my mom thinking I had sprained them or something.
When we got home, my arms were still hurting whenever I tried lifting anything. Naturally, my mother started thinking it was more serious than we originally thought and took me to the doctor.
I had broken BOTH of them. By falling off of a swing.
Of course while my mother starts panicking, my ten year old little mind is simply thinking things like- 'Cool, I get casts now!' and 'I wonder if this means I don't have carry in groceries for a while' and the one that still sticks with me-
When you're a younger sibling you take whatever ammo you can get. So what if he had asthma? I beat him in a swimming race. With TWO broken arms. It was pretty much the most amazing thing my ten year old mind could think of. I was probably insufferably smug after that.
The second time I clued in I was at a friend's fifteenth birthday party. We had all gone roller skating and despite not having gone skating for a few years, I spent the whole three hours actually enjoying myself.
I should have known. I should have known.
My friend had actually been standing at the side of ring calling us over so we could leave. I was actually skating over there to leave when it happened.
That was it. I simply tripped and fell. It should not have caused all of the kinds of horrible that it did.
I figured out halfway trying to pick myself up that my left ankle was VERY upset at the moment and I fell back down. Around the time one of the others in the group discovered I was shaking and I couldn't get back up, people starting swarming around me trying to see what had happened.
Basically, I could not walk on that ankle. We got my poor excuse for self out to the cars and headed back towards the house to figure out what to do.
I ended up going home and going to the doctors..again.
While we were waiting for x-rays to come back, I sat there thinking to myself. 'You know, I only tripped. It's likely I only twisted it or something. Or like the doctor said, maybe just a fracture because that's my luck, but it can't be that bad'
The x-rays came back.
My mother looked at the doctor, the x-rays and then at me and stated- "You are never doing anything ever again"
That was a fun and eventful summer let me tell you. Surgery was an interesting experience and now Kristin refers to my left leg as my bionic one because of the metal in it.
Anyway, staying off my leg that entire summer gave me PLENTY of time to think. And around mid July I was bored and writing my name in various ways when it occurred to me...
Elysha Grace Roush
E.G.R
E.R- (EMERGENCY ROOM)
Elysha GRACE Roush
The universe was mocking me. It was mocking me with my name.
After realizing this I simply resigned myself to my fate. It wasn't like I was going skating any time soon. It had taken me about two years to even get on a swing set again.
However, a few months ago, the universe apparently decided that I needed a little reminder. Maybe I was getting too outgoing or something, needed to be taken down a peg or so.
I was outside in the yard at my mom's house. She had a hammock tied between two wooden posts and I had decided to lay in it and read a book.
Relaxation, I've found, is for people who are NOT Elysha.
Sara decided she wanted to sit in the hammock too and before I even knew what was going on, I was hitting the ground and something ELSE was hitting my face.
I look up, completely disoriented, to see sara looking at me in horror and feeling something wet start trickling down my face. I reach my hand up, realize it's blood and that I am, in fact, bleeding from my head. Slightly panicky I start looking around to see what had caused it and see one of the hammock posts laying across the grass a few inches away.
The post had detached itself and slammed into my head.
Yep, blood is everywhere, sara is panicking and calling everybody who is within a ten mile radius on her phone and in the middle of all of this, my traumatized mind decides I should take a picture.
(Sara didn't realize I had taken a picture until I had posted it on the internet. She called me many stupid names)
Yeah, obviously I should not have been making any kinds of decisions. My mind clearly wasn't up to the task.
And in the middle of ALL of this, I was laughing my butt off, because for some reason I found the entire situation hilarious even though I had blood dripping down my face.
Other than the first few minutes, the rest seems to be blurry. I remember going to the doctors and slightly panicking because they had to put a needle near my eye, but not much else.
My mother wasn't present at the doctors because it was her first day at her new job. I didn't find out until later, but Sara hadn't managed get a hold of her on her phone. So the first my mother heard of it was when she opened her facebook to see her child's face covered in blood.
I'm probably going to give her a heart attack one of these days..
If I don't die by falling off of something first.
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