33 stitches later.

speaking of crisis, i guess it was time to get in touch with my subject matter. today i got to see one of the hospitals in my neighborhood, from the inside. everything about this move back has been so easy, i knew it was time for something to happen.

* i have an amazing job teaching 9th grade English in the bronx.
* i get to completely design my curriculum, and align it with the world history studies.
* i found a wonderful summer sublet in a loft with two amazing folks.
* i just signed a lease on a fabulous brownstone apartment 2 blocks away.
* i am in love with my life.

so, all this past week i've been thinking that the other shoe had to drop. and it did, in the form of traumatic injury. on my way up to my loft this afternoon, one of the rungs on the wooden ladder broke, and i fell through. on the way down, the screws previously holding the rung to the frame caught my leg.

i had never seen so much blood, much less my own, pooling at my feet. i just kept staring at the open gash, the flow of crimson down my leg. my fingers started to tingle and i felt faint. shock shuddered through me with a sweat. i cried out to my roommate, who flew across the room.

somehow, being half conscious, i was still able to mumble to get a towel, apply pressure, tie a scarf so she could call 911. when trying to lift my leg to free myself from the ladder, the blood ran more quickly. she told me to stay with her, and wait. i went deep inside of myself and tried to keep my eyes open. i couldn't look down at the floor. keep looking up. don't close your eyelids.

suddenly, 8 men were in the room, trying to cut me out of the ladder, give me oxygen, bandage the wound and calm me down. one of them washed my feet and said "this is the last time i'm giving you a bath, okay?" i laughed and was thankful for someone making a joke.

Just talk to me, keep my head off of this, I kept silently pleading and mina complied. we got there and were taking ER photos on her phone, talking of everything else we could think of, but were both into the gore of it, too. she watched my muscle move from the inside. we took CSI-style photos of the "crime scene" when we got home later.

it was quite an ordeal that i quietly endured. saying nam-myoho-renge-kyo in my head as they discussed the strategy for sutures. complimented for my composure in this situation, but i have to say it was fascinating to be able to look inside a part of myself. maybe understand the inner workings of my wants, if only for a moment.

i still can't get my head around the way the body deals with immense pain. it's as if to say we are supposed to shut down while it repairs us, that we have modeled our technology after our own designs. will we be aware of the slow takeover, the subtle creeping of these machines?

the major thought on my mind before this afternoon's events transpired was how i feared a technological takeover of romance. you know me, i am romantic with friends and friends with romantics. could it be that we are headed for text msg relationships, break-ups, sex and reconciliation?

yes, we are going there. and i will have scars to prove that i've been. 33 stitches, to be exact.