Marker Tears [4]

proof that I suck at life!!

Here, have all the times that I've gotten stuck, severely injured, and even a near death experience! Fun!!

Let's start with the least severe, and writhe in pain as it gets worse!
(I have wayyy more than this but let's just stick with this for now. All of these are real. I don't lie about this shit. I'm just a real fuck up.)

In fifth grade, I had expanders. They're the metal hell constructions you put in your mouth to prepare you for braces. Now, everything gets stuck in the roof of my mouth due to these stupid expanders that were quite literally drilled into my mouth. Saliva would always get stuck in there and it was too gross to swallow, so I had to write in a notebook and have my best friend talk for me, and spit in the bushes outside the classroom every five minutes. One time though, I threw up in the bushes. And, a little bit of science for you, since vomit is mostly stomach acid, it burns. Now, my mouth was still recovering from getting the expanders drilled in, so it hurt like hell. Plus vomit was the only thing I could taste for at least three days.

One time I got pneumonia (i think that's how you spell it) and had to stay out of school for two to three weeks. I don't have much on thus except it was really hard to breath because there was too much liquid in my lungs. I was actually born with too much liquid in my lungs, which I think contributes to my asthma.

The first and only time I got stung by a bee, I stepped on a dead bee in my lawn. My dad pulled the stinger out and then we got wet mud and put it on the bottom of my foot to suck whatever venom out. I had to hop on one foot to the ice cream truck.

So you know how at baseball and softball fields have like those snack shack places with the metal bars that go down like almost all the way but not all the way? Well I used to play softball and I got my head stuck in between the bars and the counter. Don't ask why or how. I had to wait for like half an hour for my dad to come pry my head out from under the bars.

One time I couldn't breathe. A paper bag helped.

I hit my head on my friend's brick fireplace. I had to stop drop and roll (mostly roll) and hit my head on the brick fireplace. I went home and my dad thought he had to call the emergency room before we went there so I sat, annoyed, with a washcloth on my head on the couch, blood pouring out of my head, for an hour and a half before my mom finally called my dad and told him to take me straight to the emergency room. The scar the back of my head still stings from time to time.

You know how people say if you're drowning, "don't panic!" and "stay calm!"? Bullshit. There is no staying calm. When you're on the brink of death, you forget the word calm even exists. They were wrong about your life flashing before your eyes. But they were right about the darkness closing in, suffocating not only your lungs, but your vision as well. Air. You need air. Surface. You need to get to the surface. Survive. Escape. You don't hold your breath, you gasp for air, only taking in water. You don't shut your eyes, thinking; "this is it", holding in tears, your eyes fly open, frantically searching for a way to escape as the only thing on your mind is survival. You don't calmly accept your fate, your body going limp, you try to struggle, escape, get to air. Air. You need air. That's the only thing you need in this moment. You don't think of your family, your loved ones, lost oppurtunities, your home. No. You think of how you need to escape. That's all you need. You can't hear. Your vision is blotted by darkness. Your body grows tired, but you keep struggling. Your mind blanks. Air. Escape. Survive. Surface. Dark. Hurt. Stuck. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ears ring. They ring. Hurt. You don't cry. It won't help. Your throat burns from the chlorine and your lungs ache for air. Your instincts kicked in long ago, leaving all thoughts of your life before this moment behind. You forget who you are, where you are, how you got into this situation. You can't escape. But you keep trying.

Moral of the story: don't try to fit your head between bars or shove your body into badly designed floaty donuts that even a 6 year old has trouble squeezing into. And don't play bumper floaties with your older while stuck and don't flip over. My mom had to climb in the pool and come flip me back up. My throat hurt a lot.

Now, for a bonus story about my dad getting hurt:

When my dad and his brother were about 14 my uncle stabbed my dad in the thigh with a butcher knife. They blamed it on a broken rusty wheelbarrow they had in the garage and my dad had to get tetnis shots.

Also the worst insult I ever got (it wasn't even bad??) was in sixth grade. A pissy little girl in my grade who was like a full foot shorter than me and was the center of all the drama at school told me I had a unibrow. I didn't. I looked at her like she was stupid. She looked so smug, the little bitch. I just hated her because she was a bratty little bitch who took pleasure in ruining people's lives. She had terrible comebacks though. Hah.