I went to campus early this morning for a sunrise yoga class at the rec center. After an embarrassingly lazy summer (I have a vague memory of possessing visible muscles once…) and a super stressful first week of school (I’m juggling three jobs right now, but that’s another story) I really needed to spend some time centering my body so my mind could calm down and refocus.
There was a bit of yoga babble that made me cringe. I’m too staidly and rational to really embrace spirituality. It seems like a nice idea, but I can never envision a ball of light floating through my body. Still, I left feeling so great. The tension I’m always carrying around felt so much lighter, and my whole body felt energized and ready for the day.
Then, because the universe hates my happiness, I had a bit of a mishap. It was such a weird accident that I’m not sure I can accurately describe it, but I’ll give it a shot. You know when you’re walking out of a door and you hold it open for the person behind you without stopping? Your body stays in brisk motion but your arm lingers behind propping the door open until the next person grabs it. It’s a really brief thing, and I do it every time I walk through a door in a high-traffic area. I don’t even think about it.
On my way to class, I was walking quickly and let my arm meander along behind me, holding the door open for the fellows behind me. And suddenly there was an overwhelming sensation of pain. My body was going forward but my arm wasn’t coming with me. I felt like my shoulder was about to be dislocated. I had a ring on, and it had somehow gotten caught on part of the door. When I walked forward, it stayed behind. It cut into my finger so deeply I had to pry it out of my skin…but that was after the awkward run-in with the guys I’d been propping the door for. They were confused about why I’d just turned around into them, and I don’t express pain in a very outward way (I kind of inhaled sharply, but didn’t vocalize my extreme discomfort) so I’m sure I just seemed crazy.
Typing this out, I’m realizing that it seems very minor. It doesn’t feel very minor. The part of my finger the ring was around turned black, but where the actual ring had been (where I had to pry it out of my skin) was the shade of white scars usually are. I went to class but wasn’t very present. I was trying to massage normal feeling and color into my finger, hand and arm. I have this absurd fear of losing limbs, so the whole time I was envisioning my new fingerless life, a la Margot Tenenbaum. I was trying to figure out if I should pop over to the campus health center, but I don’t even know how I’d start that conversation. “So, hey. My finger is super swollen due to this weird ring-in-door thing, and there’s this sharp pain shooting up my entire arm… do you take care of that here?”
It’s been a few hours and my finger is still swollen, but the color looks mostly normal. There’s an angry red oval where the ring was, but it seems fine… I guess? There’s still that pain shooting up my arm. I know I should probably go ask a professional, but I’m counting on things being fine in a few more hours.
There’s really no point to this post. I suppose we could talk about how we deal with pain, and what it means that I didn’t sit and cry, or go into class and ask my new friends what I should do. Mostly, I just want you to tell me that you’d still love me, even if my finger had stayed black, even if had been torn completely from my body, even if I had a fake Margot Tenenbaum finger for the rest of my life. That’s such a stupid thing to want to hear, but as the pain pulsates throughout my arm… it’s bizarrely the only thing I care about.
One last thing: the ring that caused this whole debacle is completely mangled. Instead of having a nice round ‘o’ shape, it’s totally misshapen. Kind of like ‘o‘, but even more slanted and twisted. It’s a really stiff metal, too, so I’m feeling really great about how much brutal force my poor finger took to bend it that way. And, I don’t really want to put a ring on any of my fingers right now (hello new ring phobia!) but losing that one sort of sucks. Most stores carry size 6 and up, but my fingers wear a size 5 which makes finding jewelry that won’t fall off practically impossible. I’ve devolved to inane whining…can I make the argument that this lingering pain is clouding my Good Blogging judgement?