On the Big Scary Day, Mommy and Bike Accidents— M.M.
June 28th, 2022 continued:
The nurse wasn’t too bad. These Montreal nurses don’t seem to be bad. They seem to be on their game. Knowledgeable, personable, and most of all, kind.
We got a bit of harumphing at reception. I politely explained that I get a panicky trauma response to this procedure and would prefer if my partner could accompany me in to the appointment.
Harumph hmm hem haw covid I’m not sure probably supervisor strict measures but it’s not yet…how do you say, lunchtime?
The doctor let her in with the only caveat being that there was just one chair.
She stood then, and she stood behind me later, offering a hand to squeeze and whispers in my ear while they did unspeakable things to my bottom half.
What we endure for safe sex.
The shame that is put on any of it.
It was ironic, this being an abortion clinic, what with Roe v Wade having just been…no, I can’t. I can’t. I am still in denial.
I cast furtive glances at the other people in the waiting room — what were they there for? What are they feeling right now? — suffice to say it was not a cheerful ambiance.
There were a fair number of young men in the waiting room, which Mommy and I took to be a promising sign.
Pee in a cup, open up my cervix, take out a device that has been living in my body since 2016, there may be some bleeding, and now the new one is in.
Safe and sound. Dispensing 5–7 years’ worth of hormones so that I don’t become pregnant.
We celebrated with bao buns and bubble tea in Chinatown.
What else?
This blog is barely a month old and already I’m behind. Have I even told you yet about getting into a car accident last week?
Well, I did. I mean, bike accident with a car.
I was doored by a car.
I still can’t really believe it.
I’ve told the story a billion times by now, anticipating the follow-up questions,
“No, I didn’t think to call the police. I was in shock. Yes, I realize now I should have gotten their names and numbers, if for no other reason than to call them now and give them a piece of my mind. Not to mention for better statistics. But I was completely stunned, and all I could think was, I don’t think I have any broken bones, I wouldn’t sue anyway, and plus, this is Canada-people don’t sue.
They didn’t even apologize. He just asked if I was okay.
I said, “No, I’m not okay.”
He said, “Okay but are you okay?”
To which I replied, “NO! I’m actually in a lot of pain.” And he just stood there awkwardly until I told him to look both ways next time…and then I just rode off.
Biked the rest of my way home, thinking that I was pretty sure I didn’t have a cracked rib.
Fell into bed, went to sleep, and woke up realizing that I had smashed into a car door at the speed of 15–20 miles per hour the evening prior.
Looked in the mirror. Not a single fucking bruise.
I never bruised.
All this week, I have been able to feel the pulpy leftovers of a smashed in chest. My ribs hurt to laugh or cough. But I don’t have one single goddamn scratch.
I was a complete wreck the first day. I cried on the phone with Gale and finally toward late morning Mommy arrived.
I just kept sobbing, over and over and over again, “I don’t feel good. I don’t feel GOOD. I don’t FEEL good.”
She held me while I sobbed. I couldn’t get too angry because then my chest would constrict and that was painful.
Those fuckers never even apologized. The only reason they even asked if I was okay was to make sure they weren’t getting in trouble.
I’ve noticed a couple of things over the last few weeks, as this June of Calamity has sown its sorry seeds.
Observation Number 1: Even in my darkest moment, during my worst crisis, at the one time it is actually perfectly acceptable to be selfish and, you know, focus on recovering from smashing your ribs into a car, I find myself instead immediately jumping to my obligations. I panic in my mind about whether or not I will be able to keep all my promises and begin to get concerned about the possibility of letting anyone down.
Observation Number 2: I go, in my mind, to the person who is MOST TOXIC first! That’s right! My priority, in my moment of complete crisis, is to worry about letting down the manipulators and bullies of the world. (Clearly, they’re the ones who frighten me the most.)
Observation Number 3: I give my energy to a lot of people, and I often don’t get the same in return.
Observation Number 4: Yet when I consider taking distance from people, I care MORE about hurting their feelings or letting them down than the fact that they have, by virtue of me wanting to take the goddamn distance, hurt MY feelings and let ME down in the past!
This has been my June of trials and tribulations. Sorrow and heartache. It’s not very fair, I don’t think, but Mommy says it’s going to all balance out. She says that one day a string of nice things will start happening for me.
I hope she’s right. I really do.
Love,
M.M.
