While doing arm stretches on a foam roller I slid off the roller entirely and slammed my right hip into the linoleum floor…It’s been 13 hours since then, and I’m just now noticing a dull ache.
Hopefully that’s a good sign, that I went so long without noticing the pain…Hopefully.
I feel old. So old.
There’s a benefit to having old person bones and illnesses though, right?
Chronic illnesses are totally like, cool…Hipster with the broken hip at 25, right?
I don’t want any more broken bones.
Gaaaah. If this holds up then I’m definitely going to be a community college professor in the U.S. for the rest of my life and never go to Spain…Unable to leave the country because nobody wants to give health insurance and travel visas to a chick who breaks bones so frequently.
I’m sure I’m fine.
It’s not broken.
Of course I didn’t think my hip, toes, or neck were broken last several times I broke things either.
The bones have a sneaky way of being in pain and making you think that it’s just arthritis. It’s probably just sore from the slight fall and then walking around all day. Totally.
I have way too much to do to break another hip. No puedo hacer esto.
Alright, if it’s not better in 24 hours I’ll contact doctors.
Ibuprofen in the mean time.
Dear guy I went on that date with,
I forgot to tell you,
I have a bone disease.
If we get married there’s a 50% chance every kid we’d have would have it. Not that you’re even thinking that far, but I am.
Also, I’m still recovering from a surgery I had a couple years back, and I totally downplayed it after I accidentally brought it up at dinner. You asked me if I was completely fine and I think I said something along the words of “pretty much”. To be honest, I don’t know how fine I am, and while the concept of going on four hour hikes with you sounds theoretically pleasant, the reality might consist in me falling over halfway through the first hour and crying while rocking back in forth in a fetal position.
That could be an exaggeration, but you seem to be fit and think that my slimness is a sign of my own fitness, but it’s merely a sign of the fact that I don’t know how to cook and most of my meals consists of salads and sandwiches.
Also, back on the bone disease topic, I don’t know how that impacts me in the long run. It’s kind of one of those “rare” sorts that hardly anybody has so they can’t really tell me much about, except that they can use it to explain why I break bones more easily than most people and why I’m already getting arthritis at the age of twenty-four.
So yeah. I guess it would have been more convenient for both of us if I had simply told you about this bone disease when we were on our date last weekend, but I kinda didn’t want to ruin everything right off the bat by immediately having you questioning my health. I think I am trying to convince you that I’m just like anybody else, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to do that. I mean, I am, I’m just also not.
And the concept of you ceasing to be interested in me upon finding this out kind of hurts. So I was probably also scared to tell you. Maybe you’re special and won’t care, but the experience of one guy not caring afterward was too much for me. Now I kind of protect the information until sharing it becomes absolutely necessary.
So, there it is.