February 19th, 2012

ow, double ow, seriously this hurts

When I was six my family moved from the east coast to the west. Our belongings were moved by the military, but my parents drove our cars, with my sister and I switching between them through the journey. I don’t remember much about it.. until the day I slammed my head in the car door.

We were at a Long John Silver’s, and after getting out of the car, I slammed the door — hard — with my head tilted in. According to my Dad, I screamed and blood started pouring from my head. I only remember him holding my head and walking me into the restaurant, past staring patrons, to the bathroom where he proceeded to rinse my head and check to see if I needed stitches.

I don’t have any memory of the pain – but I distinctly recall being unable to swim in the pools of the Motel 6s we stopped in along the way. I was only allowed to sit on the edge of the pool, my head wrapped in an ace bandage, while my sister swam back and forth.

The night before we left the Cape, I pulled the stroller out of the back of my car and slammed the door down – on my shoulder. Gasping in pain, I had to sit on the ground before heading to the room from the parking lot. A red mark, and pain at the touch, was the only indication that I’d hurt myself. Six days later and I have a rather large green bruise, with a lovely purple and red center, that hurts to high heaven every time I raise my arm a certain way.

My Dad seems to think I might need to stop shutting car doors. Ass, lol.