Existential Itches
I’ve broken two bones in my life, which is not too shabby if I consider the daredevil acts of my youth, collegiate soccer, post-college athletic pursuits like sky diving, bungee jumping, motorcycle riding, adventure travel, mountain biking, road biking, rock climbing, etc. I’d say I’ve been lucky to only count two breaks — one broken nose post-college in a recreational soccer match where a keeper came out punching on a set piece, and now a toe.
This is not to say that I’m reckless or not safe, for what that’s worth, if you’re considering whether or not to trust this particular opinion. I would say I pride myself on calculated risks. That being said, there are some minor safety points that had kept me safe.
- Always wear shoes and eyewear when undertaking a construction project (this one is also pretty self-explanatory and has kept my toes and eyes mostly free of harm in twenty years of gardening and home remodeling projects). Undertaking a new home improvement project? Trying a new tool? Carrying something heavy? Running a chain saw? Wear your PPE.
- If you can, start any major construction, particularly if there is a new tool adoption curve, early in the morning, and never on a Sunday evening (there’s that time I almost lost a finger in a portable table router that reinforced the importance of this one). Freshness counts.
I broke my toe as a result of not following either of these rules. Truth is, I was disassembling a day bed in my office at about 5pm as I had just gotten a cute couch to add to my office, so we could move the day bed elsewhere. I was barefoot because it was warm, and I had a hard workout earlier in the day. I was enjoying the feeling of the cool floor on my feet. I was feeling sad, nostalgic, taking this bed apart as I had last slept on it with my dying Teegan in her final days. I was feeling her presence with me, and soon got a jolt of energy to remind me, perhaps, that she’d always be with me. I certainly didn’t need to put myself through additional unnecessary pain for that reminder, but in life we can calculate risks, but so much is just outside of our control.
I also acknowledge with a very humble heart that it’s easy for me to contemplate pain with this lens as I’m not sitting with chronic pain, and instead I can try to focus on the bright side, and the longer term sunlight that will poke from behind the clouds.
I’d ignore the completely simple, logical safety rules on this particular Monday night. I took apart the left side of the bed, and thought I had a stripped head on one of the screws on the top right of the headboard, but it turns out it was a short screw that was simply holding the piece in place. When I gave it a little tug, I got a karate chop with a 55lb. piece of wood from about four feet above.
I may or may not have screamed for my neighbors down the block to hear. It was a smash and a pain that I would now say is unmistakable, but I wanted to tell myself it wasn’t broken. Still, I had the presence of mind to go to urgent care anyway. The doctor reassured me that he felt it was unlikely I broke it. The x-ray the next day confirmed I broke my distal phalanx in four places. I call that a smashing success. I considered the races I had signed up for, and the training I needed to complete, and perhaps Teegan offered, “This toe shall pass.” I’m sure that’s something she would have said, with one of her chuckles (as a fellow lover of play and puns).
Enter week two of the healing process, and I took to Google to search for “does a healing toe itch.” Have you ever had an itch that you so desperately wanted to scratch, but you couldn’t, because it was coming from the inside? My toe was itching something terrible.
That’s interesting. I’m in the inflammatory phase of healing? My body is “remodeling” my broken toe?
For a moment, I laughed again thinking about what this toe was teaching me. I thought about the many existential itches I’ve felt. The itches, the pain in my heart. The itches and pain inside my head. What if all of those itches and pains were other forms of the body remodeling, like the body was in the process of building scaffolding and a bridge to make the broken parts whole again? Like we needed those itches and breaks to reconnect to parts of us, to remember that we would be whole again?
I know that I’m still a few weeks out from running. My doctor said I was looking at 4–6 weeks and that I should let pain be my guide. That’s sensible advice, but what if you train as an endurance athlete and can sometimes disassociate from the pain? Again, I took to Google.
This gives me a new point to add.
3. Don’t run when your stabilizer is broken.
Again, very sensible advice that I hope to follow, and remember, along with points one and two above.
I think sometimes the breaks, and itches are here to teach us lessons, as are the dogs and loves we’ve lost. Some lessons I hope to not repeat. I think some breaks break our hearts open to heal. Who believes what doesn’t break us makes us stronger? At least that’s what I try to tell myself. I’m not sure humpty dumpty would agree, but for some of us, at least the internal itches allow us to remodel our inner house, and prepare to run another day.
I guess I have no other choice than to ponder the breaks, and itches, and try to explain to my two year old novice running partner why we’re not hitting the pavement. Soon, Bader, soon.
