Bunkbedding: dangerous

Well, this post is grotesque. You have been forewarned.

A year and two weeks ago I took a big fall, to say the least.

My rooms and I had bunked our beds, and one morning as I was descending from the end of the top bed, my foot got caught in the sheet. I landed on my desk, then my chair, then the floor. The living daylight had literally been knocked out of me. I could not breathe, my entire body was in pain, and I thought that I was going to die. I was down for at least 2 minutes, frozen in the fetal position - not quite sure about what had happened - as far as I was concerned, I would never walk again. My roommate, who had been sleeping for she had a later class, half in a daze, remarked, "Maggs, was that the printer?" I squeaked out a "no."

It was go time. The initial shock and pain had finished its first stage, and I had to keep moving - I was NOT going to miss my class. I crawled to the bathroom, switched on the light, and panicked from what I saw. Blood was everywhere. Had I hit my head? How was I going to get to the hospital? How do I make the blood stop? Where was the blood even coming from? WHAT DO I DO? I need my mummy. I can't think clearly anymore; maybe I actually hit my head. My shin had swelled from a slight bump to the size of a blueberry muffin in just the time I had been lying there! Wait, how long had I been lying there on the cold bathroom floor? Did I go unconscious? Oh no, the pain was coming back! Why? I didn't have time to think about the pain - I had to keep moving.

My thigh. Weird to say. But I think I fractured my femur. My eyes zoomed to the puddle of droplets that were collecting around my toes. Oh thank goodness! I had only split my toe in half! Oh good, it wasn't coming from my poor head. Well, there goes a toenail and some bone marrow - least of my worries.

I had to isolate the problem. Now I had to form a plan of action. 

"Quiet," I kept telling myself. My suitemates and rooms were still asleep; I would not wake them.

Community bathroom! What a brilliant idea! Oh no, there are people. Wait! I like people. People can help me. Go!

Quiet now. Turn off the light, grab the tape and gauze. Where did I put those? Where is my First-Aid kit? Oh no, it's at the back of my closet in the most inconvenient place. more noise. Blast! Now tape, Scotch will have to do. Now, it's to the people.

Open the door, close the door, left foot, right foot, left foot, more blood... only a few more steps, the creaking of the bathroom door - I've made it. I've made it this far. Now, to the sink. Water; I drink water. I shower with water, ahah, that is what I will do - shower my foot with water. Tap, sink, foot. In goes the foot. Stinging pain, oh the stinging pain is sending shots of electrical shocks up my leg. Voices, I hear voices. Are the voices causing the pain? No, they are friendly voices. Friends are people. And people can help me. Suddenly, I start hyperventilating. Everyone is in a frenzy. I shall panic too! I don't know what to do; I don't know what to think - I will follow the motions of these friendly frenzied people. A blur it all becomes. I am drifting. My face is wet, I taste saline. I am thirsty. 

What is the time? I have to go. Yes, I'll be fine. I mean, I have to be fine, right? What can be done anyhow? I need to go to class. Let me limp. What am I going to wear? Oh dear, jeans will not do! Sweat pants, Sperries, t-shirt, corduroy jacket, and scarf. I look like a hobo. 

Quickly now. Hurry along dear one. I am sitting at my Spanish class desk. Blast! I forgot pain medicine. I cannot concentrate. A class photo, really, and I have to squat. This is a true test of my endurance, surely. Tears, that is the word for that saline solution, I could feel them now. Two hours later and I limped to the nurses office: 

"Can I please have some gauze? (holding back tears)" 

why?

"Um, I sort of fell out of my bunk bed and I need gauze, thanks."

how much do you need?

"20 sheets"

Well, I can give you 10, and any more than that I will have to charge you.

"well, give me what you can. please. now. so I can go die."

pardon?

"10 will be fine, thank you."

12 months and 2 weeks later the bruise is not quite gone; however, knotted. I can still feel it. And, if I press my shin too hard it will swell up again.

Thus, the story of my unfortunate incident. What can I say? I did not hit my head, and I have extraordinary endurance. Climbed stairs and Vail Hill like a hoss' boss.

Gruesome pictures:

There's that hobo in the back.

So: Aftermath, I don't have sheets on my bed. Never will again. Only the mattress sheet, a down comforter, and my quilt cover. Quite European and less painful, I'd have to say.