Spatial Relationships

The ability to accurately perceive and appropriately respond
to spatial relationships is a learned skill. 
  Originally uploaded by jessamynnorth.

Turns out my ankle is not broken after all. The orthopaedist looked at the spot on the x-ray that the ER doctor thought was a chip off my bone and said that it was not a fracture. "No," he said. "That's an accessory bone." I asked him what an accessory bone, and he laughed, and said something about how feet and ankles have several accessory bones, which doesn't really answer my question, but I didn't press it.

I do have a sprain: "You hear that clicking noise?  You definitely sprained your ligaments."  And so today I'm in a "walking boot," which is highly superior to the anticipated cast if only because I can take it off for 15 minutes a day to take a shower.  (A shower sounds especially good right about now, since I haven't taken one since Sunday morning.) 

I don't know why, but the whole injured ankle experience has made me feel like writing, maybe just because it has made me feel vulnerable, with all my emotions just a little too close to the surface.   Whatever the reason, I'll take it.  I've missed writing.

Maybe part of it is just the re-realization of our fragility.  One moment I was walking down the stairs, annoyed and in a hurry, and the next moment I was lying in a heap on the landing, considering whether or not I could just get Katie to lie down on the sleeping bag (still on the landing from the last time we took it out to the backyard) and stay with me until my lightheadedness had passed.   (Luckily, I think, I chose to get us back up the stairs and into our unit instead of camping out on the landing.)

There is nothing like going to the emergency room with a non-life-threatening issue to make you feel lucky, I am convinced.  I felt bad, bad enough to rate the aching in my ankle to the triage nurse as a 5 or 6 on a scale of 1 to 10, but once I put my foot up, I was basically ok.  Geoff was there with me, and our baby was safe at home, and although I was anxious (I was thinking that maybe I had dislocated my ankle, which made me afraid of what they would have to do un-dislocate it), I felt good enough to carry on a conversation with Geoff, and during the three hours that we were there, we even occasionally laughed. 

There is a look that people get when they are in  serious pain or extreme discomfort - you can look at them and tell that they do not know or care whether you see them or what you think of them.  I have only felt that way a few times (the most recent time I can remember is when I was in labor with Katie).  There is something humbling and a little scary about seeing people who have completely lowered their guard while strangers look on.  I'm sure there are people like that in emergency rooms every day. 

Not only were there those people, but there was also the large man who came in on a gurney while paramedics pushed on his chest so that his large belly rose and fell maybe a foot in the air.  Later we heard a policeman looking for "the DOA," and we figured they were looking for that man.  There were the teenage parents with their tiny newborn covered in a rash.  There was also the man in restraints (Geoff reported that to me - I never saw him) who kept screaming, "Miss Williams!" and "Doctor!"  as well as many semi-intellible things that didn't seem to have much to do with reality. 

So when I went to write today, and I included that picture of Katie up there, I got to thinking.  "The ability to accurately perceive and appropriately respond to spatial relationships is a learned skill."  I named the picture lightheartedly, of course, but now I'm looking at it and thinking deep thoughts about how true it is, about how maybe we spend our whole lives learning about spatial relationships, wavering between those days when we feel far away from everything and those other days when we feel almost claustrophobic with the closeness of it all.  We are all individuals; we are all human.  (Is it the myth of fingerprints?)

I have spent quite a bit of time in the last few months feeling "other," feeling far away from a lot of things. I think it might even have been Saturday night when I said to Geoff, "the world would not miss me."  I didn't mean that my family and friends and loved ones wouldn't miss me - but I have been feeling like my contribution to the world is not what I would like it to be.  And not to over-value my little corner of the world wide web, but writing on the internet has made me feel like I am making a contribution. 

I don't know what all of this means.  I would like to say that it means that I will be writing regularly from now on, but I've said that before, and it didn't happen.  How about I just say that today you feel closer than you sometimes appear?   Hi, out there.  I'm glad you're reading.

Comments

[Rosemary Grace]

I'm glad you're writing!

Also glad for you that it wasn't a broken or fractured ankle, those can be tricksey.

[april]

Glad to see you writing again! SO very glad your ankle wasnt broken.

I actually know what you mean about being completely vulnerable. I had sinus surgery earlier this year and one night, after two complication-free weeks, my nose began to bleed and wouldnt quit. In the process of getting blood work done, deciding whether I'd lost enough for a blood transfusion and me sobbing/begging the Dr not to pack it again, you wouldnt believe the looks poor Kevin got. We were both covered in blood, as were two towels in our laps. I'm sure everybody around us thought he probably hit me as I still had black eyes from the surgery. Agh. It was awful. Over a silly bloody nose.

[gabby]

Can I just say I completely understand? I was just writing about moods the other day and that's exactly how I was feeling.

[Teri]

Just being redundant: Glad you're back and on the mend! I check ABOG everyday.

[TB]

Add me to the glad you're writing group. You amaze me with your insights.

Sometimes a sprain is worse than a break because the only thing that can fix it is time and care. Hope you and your accessory (is it a purse or a scarf?) bone feel better soon.

[Elaine]

Hurrah! I'm glad it wasn't a break and they gave you a walking cast because - hell, it is SO difficult to do the simplest things when encumbered by crutches (ie make a cup of tea - wonder how you're going to carry it to where you want to sit and drink it, whilst using said crutches etc). I had almost 9 months of it once and whilst it makes you inventive it gets old REALLY quickly lol.

As to the rest, well your writing makes all the difference to your readers (as do your photos and sharing of your beautiful girl). It's strange when you consider that I (at least) 'visit' my on-line reads pretty much daily - which is more than I ever do with quite a lot of my real-life friends lol. Quite an achievement!

[BJ]

"maybe we spend our whole lives learning about spatial relationships, wavering between those days when we feel far away from everything and those other days when we feel almost claustrophobic with the closeness of it all."

I'm not a drama queen, but that statement just broke me down. It's so perfect, tears are welling up and I don't know why. It's been said, but can definately be said again. Thank YOU for writing!