Tuesday, January 31, 2012


When I was seventeen I almost died. I know that sounds very dramatic but it really was! It happened at three in the morning on the last night of summer holidays when I hitchhiked home from a party with my best friend (pictured with me, above), this other girl I was secretly in love with and some boy from our class. We planned to sneak back into our rooms and pretend to have been home all along before our parents got up to go to work. Anyway, the guy who pulled over - he was drunk. But so were we and so we didn't think twice when he told us to put our seat-belts on (there were none) or when he kept driving 150+ the entire way, taking sharp turns, even though we asked him to slow down. When I came to I was screaming - the entire car was screaming. But now that I think about it maybe it was the horn. I'm not sure exactly what happened but, I remember my best friend with her dress torn and hanging down her torso pulling me out of the car and into the ditch by the side of the road (she was afraid the car would go up in flames) and looking for my left boot (it flew off from the impact). I think my pants were half way down as well. I also remember being cut out of my clothes by nice nurses at the hospital - the same hospital my mom worked at - and worrying about my borrowed blouse that was stained with blood now being sliced top to bottom. I remember not being able to lift my legs when I had to pee into the bedpan and looking at my own greyscale reflection in the glass wondering why my face was completely black. It was covered in blood and bruises and mud. At that point I was high on morphine though, so when the nurses led my crying parents into the room I was laughing and cracking jokes about how I needed a sponge bath ASAP or whatever, extending my arms willingly to get more needles, etc...
Two years later I hitchhike with the same friend and we get into a red pick up truck and as we approach the half-way mark I see the driver's mail (it was in the back seat) addressed to Habib Mahoul from Kfar Yasif (same guy). I ask him politely to pull over and let us off in the middle of nowhere and frantically tell my friend, we then cry a bit and continue our journey. THE END.
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Up until that point in my life I have never broken a single bone in my body and (coincidentally????) was reeeeeally into gore and horror films, which my brother and sister and I religiously watched together every weekend. From that year on I became cautious about everything: heights, knives, bikes, ball games, rocky beaches, car rides with strangers, slippery sidewalks. Somehow seeing my body in that condition made everything into a threat and to this day I often have flashes of "what if____________(insert your own dangerous scenario here)". It applies to physical pain exclusively. My friends don't understand why I cringe and roll my eyes when a specifically graphic story moment comes up because they don't know that my knees and brain are melting at that very moment. I'm terrified on the body malfunctioning, and of any physical pain - even when pain is just an idea in my head. I don't know if I'll ever be able to shake it off, but hopefully I will!

Anyway all that to say that I'm going to have a wisdom tooth removed tomorrow and I'm scared of the blood and the crunching sounds that teeth make as they leave your body. Thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach. PLEASE SHARE YOUR POSITIVE EXPERIENCES WITH ME I NEED IT! tindronomel@gmail.com

2 comments:

BrendanGeorge said...

thanks for sharing this.

Neelam Kler said...

I dreaded getting my wisdom teeth out, I think a lot of people do. I waited way too long to actually do it, but honestly it happened so quickly! All 4 out in about 20 mins! they gave me enough drugs that I didn't feel a thing and was buzzing for a few hours after. Just keep your eyes closed the whole time. And they might move your head around a lot. The real gore came when I had to change the bloody cotton in my mouth!