I fell off my bike and hurt my hand really badly. I was trying to jump a five foot expanse, and I made it across, but I couldn’t execute the landing.
That’s not the exact truth.
What really happened was that I was doing a wheelie while juggling fire, all while doing a headstand on the bike.
I wish that last one was true because, even though it sounds really stupid, it’s stupid in kind of a cool way.
The truth this time: I was riding on a recently repaved bike trail, alongside eight-year-olds and, like an eight-year-old, I fell off. I went flying from my bike, scraped my knees, and injured three of my fingers, which were swollen, throbbing and bruised.
What followed then was a round of “And that’s why’s.” Both Andy and I turned to Colin, who hates wearing his helmet, and said, “And that’s why you have to wear a helmet.” Colin pointed out that this didn’t make sense, as I hadn’t landed on my head. Sometimes I think all of our lives would be easier if that kid were a little dumber.
Andy has always advised me not to bike while pregnant. I listened to him, but I thought he was being a ninny. We’re on a bike trail! How klutzy would I have to be to fall off my bike while riding on a bike trail? So I was expecting it when Andy said to me, “And that’s why you don’t bike while pregnant.” Since he still claims not to want a third child, I promised not to bike the next time I’m pregnant.
My mother-in-law said that the accident showcased my incredible athleticism since I landed with my hands and protected my head.
I know what you’re thinking.
She’s absolutely right. What an example of athletic prowess this incident was. To commemorate it, I’m launching a line of wrist bands called Fall Strong.
After it first happened the pain was unbearable, but a couple of hours later, it was tolerable. I called the hospital and was advised I didn’t need to come in right away. My fingers weren’t that bruised, so I started to think maybe I’d overreacted. We were leaving town in a couple of days, and I didn’t have a lot of time for a doctor’s visit. After mulling it over, I said to Andy, “I wanted to clean the house tomorrow, but maybe I should make a doctor’s appointment instead.”
His response was a testimony to the difference between men and women. “Of course you should go to the doctor’s instead of cleaning the house,” Andy said. He really thought I was being ridiculous—as if this wasn’t a point that warranted some serious internal debate. Honestly, if he had responded, “Really? Are you sure?”, I would have probably have cleaned the house instead.
I was given an evening appointment time, close to bedtime for our kids, so I went to the doctor’s alone. “Maybe it’ll be nice for you,” Andy said. “You can take your book and have a break.” I agreed, already feeling rapturous about the alone time. Then we both wondered what it said about us if we thought of a trip to the hospital as a relaxing break.
I had three X-rays taken, and my doctor flipped through them with me. “Beautiful,” he said as we looked at the first one, and I had to agree. I really do have lovely finger bones. “This looks perfect again,” he said as we checked out the next one. “Ah, just as I thought,” he said of the third. “You broke two of your fingers.”
He taped my fingers together and said the breaks were small and would heal quickly because I’m young. After he said that, I forgave him for pretending he knew they were broken all along. Then he asked me what kinds of physical activity I like to do, so I said, you know, the usual—running, walking, doing wheelies while juggling fire. He said maybe don’t do that last one for three weeks, so I won’t. And definitely not while pregnant.
That’s not the exact truth.
What really happened was that I was doing a wheelie while juggling fire, all while doing a headstand on the bike.
I wish that last one was true because, even though it sounds really stupid, it’s stupid in kind of a cool way.
The truth this time: I was riding on a recently repaved bike trail, alongside eight-year-olds and, like an eight-year-old, I fell off. I went flying from my bike, scraped my knees, and injured three of my fingers, which were swollen, throbbing and bruised.
What followed then was a round of “And that’s why’s.” Both Andy and I turned to Colin, who hates wearing his helmet, and said, “And that’s why you have to wear a helmet.” Colin pointed out that this didn’t make sense, as I hadn’t landed on my head. Sometimes I think all of our lives would be easier if that kid were a little dumber.
Andy has always advised me not to bike while pregnant. I listened to him, but I thought he was being a ninny. We’re on a bike trail! How klutzy would I have to be to fall off my bike while riding on a bike trail? So I was expecting it when Andy said to me, “And that’s why you don’t bike while pregnant.” Since he still claims not to want a third child, I promised not to bike the next time I’m pregnant.
My mother-in-law said that the accident showcased my incredible athleticism since I landed with my hands and protected my head.
I know what you’re thinking.
She’s absolutely right. What an example of athletic prowess this incident was. To commemorate it, I’m launching a line of wrist bands called Fall Strong.
After it first happened the pain was unbearable, but a couple of hours later, it was tolerable. I called the hospital and was advised I didn’t need to come in right away. My fingers weren’t that bruised, so I started to think maybe I’d overreacted. We were leaving town in a couple of days, and I didn’t have a lot of time for a doctor’s visit. After mulling it over, I said to Andy, “I wanted to clean the house tomorrow, but maybe I should make a doctor’s appointment instead.”
His response was a testimony to the difference between men and women. “Of course you should go to the doctor’s instead of cleaning the house,” Andy said. He really thought I was being ridiculous—as if this wasn’t a point that warranted some serious internal debate. Honestly, if he had responded, “Really? Are you sure?”, I would have probably have cleaned the house instead.
I was given an evening appointment time, close to bedtime for our kids, so I went to the doctor’s alone. “Maybe it’ll be nice for you,” Andy said. “You can take your book and have a break.” I agreed, already feeling rapturous about the alone time. Then we both wondered what it said about us if we thought of a trip to the hospital as a relaxing break.
I had three X-rays taken, and my doctor flipped through them with me. “Beautiful,” he said as we looked at the first one, and I had to agree. I really do have lovely finger bones. “This looks perfect again,” he said as we checked out the next one. “Ah, just as I thought,” he said of the third. “You broke two of your fingers.”
He taped my fingers together and said the breaks were small and would heal quickly because I’m young. After he said that, I forgave him for pretending he knew they were broken all along. Then he asked me what kinds of physical activity I like to do, so I said, you know, the usual—running, walking, doing wheelies while juggling fire. He said maybe don’t do that last one for three weeks, so I won’t. And definitely not while pregnant.
