At this point, I swear I’m anemic. OK probably not actually, but sometimes it feels that way. I don’t know if I’m really that accident prone, but maybe I am. All I know is I always have at least one bruise. I always have just had at least one bruise. They range from the small, to the OH MY GOSH WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?? It can be a little annoying.
-When I worked at Old Navy, I used to use my upper thighs to push a conveyor belt that we used for shipment. The usual times that I pushed this conveyor belt were around 5:45 am and 8:45 am. I vividly recall once when I was changing into daytime clothes, as opposed to shipment clothes. I looked down to see a line of bruises going across my legs. As I couldn’t remember what I could have possibly done to cause such bruises, I panicked. I eventually remembered that I did shipment and that I had gotten the bruises from the nest-a-flex. Since I worked 2 shipments a week, those bruises took forever to heal.
-For some reason, I walk into my bed quite often. The bruise is usually huge, ugly, and hurts like 10 men. Walking into my bed hurts a lot too.
-I’ve developed a really bad habit of walking into door handles. I’ve been walking through doors for how many years now, and I’ve just started neglecting to open them wide enough for both me and my arms to walk through without harm. I think it’s because I’m often in a hurry. Still hurts, though.
-I moved into a new apartment about a year ago. I’m still walking into drawer handles. Again, it hurts.
-The other day, I was reaching across my gear shifter in my car to get to the cup holder on the other side of it. I moved my hand, which I’ve done a thousand times, and smacked my hand on the shifter. That resulted in a bruise I totally didn’t realize I had until I hit it the next day at work on accident.
The list goes on and on. And the stories get more and more embarrassing.
I was at my parents’ house a few years ago and we were all piled in the kitchen, trying to teach the dog a new trick. Someone would lay down on the floor in the kitchen, then we would throw a treat to the other side of the kitchen, and the dog would run after it. At one point, the challenge of just jumping over my brother got too easy, so my younger sister laid down next to my brother. After a while, that became a challenge for the dog, but he still wanted to play. I was sitting at the kitchen table with a drinking glass in front of me. I’m a silent laugher. It’s a pretty funny thing. As the dog ran across the kitchen, and cleared my brother, but not my sister, I doubled over in laughter and my eye hit the rim of the glass. I had a slightly black eye the next day.
I was at the gun range with my family a few summers ago. I was shooting my dad’s gun, which has a scope mounted on it. It’s a big gun, and I was afraid of it. I steadied myself, pulled the trigger, only to find the safety to still be on. I flicked the safety off, regained my composure, pulled the trigger, and bowed my head…my sunglasses got knocked askew as the gun kicked back and the mounted scope hit me in the forehead. It swelled immediately, and I forgot about it until I was washing my face later that evening…oops.
I share these experiences not to gain pity, but to laugh at how often I find myself in this situation. I think I’m just a little on the accident prone side. It’s usually hilarious when I think back about all the bruises I’ve collected in my life. Each one has a story, even if it’s something silly like walking into a door.
So go ahead and laugh at my bruises. I know I do. As to preventing them, I might just need more iron. I could just take an iron supplement…or I could just eat more beef…that definitely appeals more to the Montana girl in me. So yeah, Imma do that.