Not-quite-so darkest hour
Friends, as many of you are aware, on October 14th, 2005, at approximately 12:07 Somalian Standard Time, I sustained a life-threatening injury. But before I continue let me first relay to you the context of that evening.
Rob and I had arrived several seconds late to the soccer game, during which time the score had gone from 0-0 to 0-2, in the other team's favor. Mike had been playing either very well, or very poorly, depending on your perspective. If you measure success in goals scored, he was doing superbly with a count of two. If, however, you measure success in goals scored against the other team, he wasn’t doing quite so well. Rob and I, it appeared, had arrived just in time, and we quickly joined the game. Seeing my arrival, the other team cowered in fear, and I quickly justified their terror. I played heroically, for at least several minutes, until tragedy struck. I was in the process of ripping the ball from another player’s possession when it happened. I had seen my chance and charged in. He, realizing my intent, began to flee, but he could not escape me. I flew at him with all the rage of an angel’s fury, and against such power he could not hope to stand. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to me, he was waiting for such an event, and was ready with his own insidious aim. As we collided and then collapsed, the brute dastardly kicked his foot straight into my unprotected shin. His foot made contact and his sinister aim was accomplished; a huge liquid-filled contusion began to appear within moments after the gruesome deed was done. The villain had smashed my muscle and vein against my tibia, thus causing internal hemorrhaging at a rapid rate, and soon the contusion was several inches in width and height. Though I could barely stand, and the pain was unlike any I have ever known, I was resolved to continue playing. My friends, however, were too concerned for my well-being to allow me to expose myself to further injury, especially now that it had become clear that that was the other team’s aim. So, at their behest, I stepped out. Once I was clear of the field, and there was no longer the whiz of the ball by my head or the screams of the players, I was able to clear my head and look more closely at my wound. Have you ever seen Alien? So, I stepped over to the organizers and asked their counsel. They, upon seeing my wound, replied, “Oh my god,” and then proceeded to call campus emergency medical services. Next the organizers asked me a series of questions, including my address, social security number, and other identification items. The police arrived shortly thereafter, said, “Oh my god” and then proceeded to ask me a series of questions pertaining to my identity. One of the police officers, though obviously having no medical training or knowledge, decided it would be a good idea to see if I could bend my leg; I could, but the pain was excruciating. Then, again based off his expertise, concurred that there was obviously no significant damage to my leg, since, after all, I could bend it. Never mind the agonizing pain or the gargantuan swelling. Next to arrive to the scene were several employees of the Health and Wellness Center, the building in which we currently were. These girls took one look at my leg, said, “Oh my god,” and then proceeded to ask me a series of questions pertaining to my identity. Last to arrive to the scene were the emergency services personnel themselves. Finally, I thought to myself, some trained, reliable, knowledgeable medical personnel. They took my blood pressure, made sure I wasn’t delirious, and then told me they could give me no advice whatsoever as to my medical condition or whether or not I should go to the hospital. So the only people of the evening who were, in fact, qualified to give me medical advice, were the only people of the evening from whom I did not receive it.
In the end I decided not to go to the hospital, and my grievous injury has pained me ever since. Though I have been stoic in public, there were times when the pain was too fierce to even stand. But, as with all things, I bore my injury without complaint and with good-humor. But, there is good news; today is the first day that I have been without pain since that fateful evening. And so, dear friends, I write this entry, not to complain, despair, or bemoan, but rather, to rejoice. I am again in good health simply through the triumph of mind over matter.
As always, friends,
in resilience and indefatigability,
Adam
Rob and I had arrived several seconds late to the soccer game, during which time the score had gone from 0-0 to 0-2, in the other team's favor. Mike had been playing either very well, or very poorly, depending on your perspective. If you measure success in goals scored, he was doing superbly with a count of two. If, however, you measure success in goals scored against the other team, he wasn’t doing quite so well. Rob and I, it appeared, had arrived just in time, and we quickly joined the game. Seeing my arrival, the other team cowered in fear, and I quickly justified their terror. I played heroically, for at least several minutes, until tragedy struck. I was in the process of ripping the ball from another player’s possession when it happened. I had seen my chance and charged in. He, realizing my intent, began to flee, but he could not escape me. I flew at him with all the rage of an angel’s fury, and against such power he could not hope to stand. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to me, he was waiting for such an event, and was ready with his own insidious aim. As we collided and then collapsed, the brute dastardly kicked his foot straight into my unprotected shin. His foot made contact and his sinister aim was accomplished; a huge liquid-filled contusion began to appear within moments after the gruesome deed was done. The villain had smashed my muscle and vein against my tibia, thus causing internal hemorrhaging at a rapid rate, and soon the contusion was several inches in width and height. Though I could barely stand, and the pain was unlike any I have ever known, I was resolved to continue playing. My friends, however, were too concerned for my well-being to allow me to expose myself to further injury, especially now that it had become clear that that was the other team’s aim. So, at their behest, I stepped out. Once I was clear of the field, and there was no longer the whiz of the ball by my head or the screams of the players, I was able to clear my head and look more closely at my wound. Have you ever seen Alien? So, I stepped over to the organizers and asked their counsel. They, upon seeing my wound, replied, “Oh my god,” and then proceeded to call campus emergency medical services. Next the organizers asked me a series of questions, including my address, social security number, and other identification items. The police arrived shortly thereafter, said, “Oh my god” and then proceeded to ask me a series of questions pertaining to my identity. One of the police officers, though obviously having no medical training or knowledge, decided it would be a good idea to see if I could bend my leg; I could, but the pain was excruciating. Then, again based off his expertise, concurred that there was obviously no significant damage to my leg, since, after all, I could bend it. Never mind the agonizing pain or the gargantuan swelling. Next to arrive to the scene were several employees of the Health and Wellness Center, the building in which we currently were. These girls took one look at my leg, said, “Oh my god,” and then proceeded to ask me a series of questions pertaining to my identity. Last to arrive to the scene were the emergency services personnel themselves. Finally, I thought to myself, some trained, reliable, knowledgeable medical personnel. They took my blood pressure, made sure I wasn’t delirious, and then told me they could give me no advice whatsoever as to my medical condition or whether or not I should go to the hospital. So the only people of the evening who were, in fact, qualified to give me medical advice, were the only people of the evening from whom I did not receive it.
In the end I decided not to go to the hospital, and my grievous injury has pained me ever since. Though I have been stoic in public, there were times when the pain was too fierce to even stand. But, as with all things, I bore my injury without complaint and with good-humor. But, there is good news; today is the first day that I have been without pain since that fateful evening. And so, dear friends, I write this entry, not to complain, despair, or bemoan, but rather, to rejoice. I am again in good health simply through the triumph of mind over matter.
As always, friends,
in resilience and indefatigability,
Adam