I have a pretty significant bruise where I sprained my ankle. It’s gotten a few oohs and aahs around the office, and that’s saying something, seeing that I work in a hospital.
It’s brought to mind a few other major bruises that I’ll always remember…
During my 3rd year in university I was walking into the library washroom when someone was coming out. Unfortunately, I had my head down because I was cleaning my glasses and the door, which was solid wood, hit me squarely in my right temple. I got a huge shiner that took up half my face and seemed to last forever.
Because my explanation for the injury was the pathetic, “I walked into a door,” everyone was very worried that my boyfriend at the time had hit me. I thought this was hilarious, the boyfriend did not.
The Husband and I were at a fantastic house party which went into the wee hours. I was having a great time and had imbibed a significant amount of wine. I very rarely drink these days so that was novel in itself and the only reason I willing ended up in the hot-tub.
I was having a great time in the tub and was thrilled when one of my best friends came down to the lower deck to join us… until she tripped and fell. I immediately went into rescue mode, but as I jumped out to render first-aid I missed the hot tub steps and tumbled onto the deck myself.
I still maintain that I was in complete control the entire time, as evidenced by the unbroken (and still partially full) wineglass that I held as we lay together in that comical heap. The fall resulted in a deep and multi-coloured bruise on my hip that people are still talking about, and which would have really hurt if I hadn’t had so much alcohol in me.
This party has now become an annual event and people have been known to accept their invitation on the condition that “Stephanie will fall out of the hot-tub again.”
A couple of years ago, on the night before I was to fly to Toronto for an ALS conference, I was sitting on our bed reading one of the Harry Potter books to the boys. As I wrote about here, I am pretty dramatic in these readings.
ET was sitting on my lap, with CJ to the side, when we reached a particularly exciting point in the plot. I can’t remember now what it was, all I remember is the crunch of my nose breaking as ET’s head flew back in excitement. He felt terrible, of course, so I ended up consoling him while trying not to cry myself.
This headbutt quickly resulted in two black eyes which I then took to Toronto for 4 days of meetings and dinners. There wasn’t enough concealer in the world to stop the questions so I simply began telling everyone that Harry Potter broke my nose. It proved to be an interesting conversation starter.
Perhaps you can now understand how a little black and blue way down on my ankle will only be a footnote in my hematoma history. (Ha! Footnote!)