A few of you know me in real life, but the rest of you have never seen me in action.  I am tall with long limbs, which are often the source of much pain for me.  How and why, you ask?  Well, to put it gently, I am super fucking clumsy.   As a kid, I was always rolling my ankle, wrecking my bike, falling down.  You name it, I’ve done it.  I’m surpised I’ve never had more broken bones.

Breaking things came to me at an early age.  As a kid, I ran away from my very pregnant mother and went flying down the big kid slide.  I was 3 and the slide was huge.  I bounced from side to side, eventually breaking my foot because my shoe got caught on the side of the slide and I kept going.  Awesome!

I’ve also managed to split my chin open 3 different times in 3 different places.  What can I say?  I have skills.  Incident 1 involved my footy PJs getting caught between the door frame and Little S’s highchair.  This resulted in me face planting onto the tile kitchen floor.  A trip to the ER and some butterfly stitches later, all was ok.  Incident 2 involved me and a giant pile of rocks.  This one I don’t remember as clearly.  One second I was happy and climbing around, the next I was washing blood off my face and hands and being taken to the ER again for more butterfly stitches.  Incident 3 was pretty awful.  My dad and I had gone bike riding (I’m sure you know where this is going) before we were supposed to go out to dinner for my mom’s birthday.  She told us not to go because we wouldn’t have time to get ready for dinner.  But we went anyway.  Let’s just say our little ride resulted in me loosing control of my bike on the way down a hill, flying over the handle bars and face planting onto the street.  This time involved lots and lots of blood, scrapes, another trip to the ER, X-rays and 10 stitches.  Yeah, I rock.

In 6th grade I had just gotten my hair cut into a bob after it had been pretty long.  I was in the bathroom drying my hair and decided to flip my head upside down to give my hair more volume.  For some reason I had my right knee bent and when I flipped over, I smashed my nose into my knee.  Cue more blood and a broken nose.  Who knew I was so bendy?  Paint me green and call me Gumby.

As I got older, the clumsiness only got worse.  I was 5’7 or 5’8 in 7th grade, with size 9 shoes and weighed about 80 pounds.  I was long and gangly, and paid the price.  That year I was walking through a town fair when I mis-stepped off of the curb and almost took my mom out with me.  Luckily I didn’t fall but I twisted my ankle pretty badly.  Another time we were hiking and I definitely twisted it a few more times.

In high school, we were playing volleyball in gym.  My team was doing pretty well, and I was having fun.  At one point I was running for a ball when my shoe stopped, and my body kept going.  There was a loud pop and my ankle hurt like hell.  I hobbled to the nurse’s office where she laid me on a bed with ice, and called my dad to get me.  I got wheeled out in a wheelchair and saw T in the parking lot.  He was so freaked out because someone had told him that I was in a wheelchair.  It was just a bad sprain, and I was on crutches for about a week.  I actually skipped school for the rest of the week except one day because I was so bad at the crutches.  I couldn’t maneuver my way our our giant school.

A few years ago, Atlanta had a minor ice storm.  T and I and some friends decided to go out that night because we were banking on the city being shut down the next day.  We had some drinks and hung out.  We left the bar and went down this little steep incline by the dumpster.  Well, it had ice rained a little and the ground was slick.  I started to slip and grabbed the railing to stop me.  It was icy, so I kept going.  The same ankle from high school popped again, except this time it was in a boot.  Yeah, it sucked.  And what was even worse was that T was flying home to NY the very next morning, and I had no one to drive me around (it was my right ankle).  Luckily Little S had taken her last final that morning and was able to rush to Atlanta, take me to get crutches, and drive me to and from work.

Since my ankles have such a bad track record, I’ve been extra super careful about what I’ve been doing lately so I don’t end up with a jacked up ankle for the wedding.  This weekend I was getting ready to go to a friend’s party, and I was blow drying my hair.  Once again, I was flipping my head over to give my hair some volume when I cracked my elbow on the corner of the sink/vanity.   It hurt so much I wanted to cry.  I swore that I broke it because it was painful to bend it or to lift it above my head to finish my hair.  In a panic, I called my sister who had broken her elbow before and collected some symptoms.  She said it didn’t sound like it was broken, which was a huge releif to me.  I definitely did not want to have to wear a cast on my wedding day! It still hurts a tad, but I can bend it.  I think I must have just hit it in a sensitvie spot or something because I was sure that it was broken.  At least it wasn’t my ankle, right?

So, what’s your worst being clumsy-related story or injury?

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