My Wrist Hurts Every Now and Then
My wrist hurts every now and then because one time I was riding home on my bike, and I was excited to get home and skype my girlfriend-at-the-time Robin, so I was riding as fast as I possibly could, down a hill, in the rain, and my brakes were never that great to begin with…
I’m going a little too fast, I should slow down... The breaks aren’t working... I can’t slow down… I’m going way too fast, I’m going to crash... I should jump off…I should jump off… I can’t... This is going to hurt.
I hit a curb at the bottom of the hill and flew forward off of my bike and face first into a concrete pylon.
My face healed in a week. That was fine. But my arm was in a cast for three months, and it never really healed properly.
It was a problem mostly because Robin was coming to visit me, and it was supposed to be our last time together, because long distance relationships suck. So she was coming to Chicago, and we would have a good time, and then that would be it. But now I was going to have this stupid cast on the whole time she was here.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, a week before she got here, I got this weird lump on my hip that turned out to be a sebaceous cyst. I went to a doctor and he sliced it open with a scalpel and pulled out what looked like a piece of chicken fat the size of a pea.
So when Robin arrived, not only did I have a cast on, but I also had an open wound on the side of my body that I had to re bandage every morning because it was draining pus.
This made it hard to have shower sex, but other than that we soldiered on and kept trying to have a good time.
But then the second day that Robin was here, I got a phone call from my doctor who told me that my cyst was infected with MRSA, which is a fairly common, but incredibly contagious form of staff infection.
So Robin and I spent the next few days going to various hospitals and health clinics to make sure she wasn’t going to be infected with MRSA too and die. We had to cancel all of the things we had planned to do. We didn’t do mushrooms in the park, we didn’t go to the zoo, we didn’t get deep dish pizza.
The lowest point was when we tried to make pop-rock chocolate. It was something that we had had in Israel and so we wanted to make some of our own. We had spent all day in clinics getting poked at by doctors, we were sick and tired and feeling shitty, and this was the last thing that I had planned that we could actually do. We just wanted to do one fun thing.
We went to four different stores: 7-ll, CVS, Jewel, Walgreens and none of them had fucking pop rocks. I fell to my knees and started crying in the candy aisle in Walgreens.
But we soldiered on. We got gummy worms instead, and made chocolate covered gummy worms.
The next day I got a virus and we spent the last night in the emergency room of a hospital on the southisde, and I could barely stay conscious because my fever was so high.
The next morning she left and I never saw her again.
We both decided that that trip was fucking awful and so it didn’t count. So a month later, and the day after I got my cast off, I flew to Santa Cruz to see her. And that was a wonderful time. We went to the beach, hung out in San Fransisco, touched each other in the back seat of her friend’s car while her friend was in the front seat driving. It was wonderful. We were in love, and we were together, and no one was infected or diseased, and we got to do everything that we wanted to do that week. No crying in the candy aisle at Walgreens.
And then I had to leave.
She drove me to the airport, and I kissed her goodbye, and I never saw her again.
And sometimes I forget that I have a bad wrist, and I’ll do a cartwheel or something, and hurt myself again, but then a week will go by and it will be better, and another week will go by and I’ll forget again, and then I’ll be breakdancing or something and I will hurt myself. And then I’ll forget again, and hurt myself again, and forget, and hurt myself, and forget, and remember, and forget, and remember.
And it’s been over a year now, but it still hurts sometimes.