I was almost finished. All that was left was putting a few decorative things up on my mirrored door chest. Merry Christmas was being sung on the radio in every imaginable way. I was dreaming about all I would get done once I finished. Getting up on my desk chair, I could tell I didn't have my balance, but didn't think much of it. Then I could feel the chair tipping and myself going down with it. I reached out to stop my fall, but everything was a blur. A long moment later I realized the fall was over. I tried to focus my eyes on the broken glass I knew was on my bed. My eyes focused and I saw the glass, broken, like I expected. Then I looked down at my right forearm. It was being held by my left hand. I caught my breath. There was a cut. It wasn't very long, but I knew a band aid wouldn't make it all better. A wave of embarrassment swept over me. I had been hurrying and had known I didn't have my balance on the chair. Though these thoughts crowded my head, I knew I had to show the cut to my Mom and fast.
When I came through the door of my parents bedroom, my Mom, still talking to my Gramma, mouthed the words, "Are you okay?"
Normally, I would answer, "Yes, but," and go on to ask a question.
Today was different. I simply answered, "No."
My Mom quickly told my Gramma she had to go. I showed her the cut and she took me into the bathroom. She took a red towel out of a cabinet and wrapped it around my arm and had me put pressure on it. I told her what happened, seeing everything I could have done to prevent my fall. All she asked was, "Did you learn a lesson?" The answer was definitely yes.
In the next short while my Mom helped get me comfortable and called my Dad home.
About an hour later I was sitting at our kitchen table reading a sweet Get Well Soon! card from my cousin and listening to my Uncle Gary cheerfully talk about the first aid kit, complete with needle and thread, he keeps in his car. Uncle Gary is a dermatologist, and we had called him to see if he thought the cut needed stitches. He thought it would, and offered to come to our house and do it himself.
Uncle Gary is very good at talking as he works, but all I could think about was that needle. I was looking away, but still having trouble not shaking. All of the sudden I heard him say, "Do you want a pillow to lay your head on? I think we should get you one."
My Mom came over with a pillow and I put my head down. Then Uncle Gary started joking about how he didn't want me to faint. After that, while working on my arm, a steady conversation about fainting was kept up between my Mom and him. Five little black stitches later and the cut was gone. A band aid, cotton ball, and a stretchy, tape-like wrap was put securely over the stitches. After that Uncle Gary checked my pulse, had me move my fingers together, and proclaimed me healthy. "In one week," he said, "I can take out those stitches."
I spent the better part of that afternoon on the sofa in our living room watching TV. My arm felt okay, especially if I didn't move it. My mind is what was bothering me. Suddenly, I was thinking about if there were any other glass objects in my room. . . if I could take away all other glass objects in my room. Since I was "safe" I had found out that, if in a slightly different position, things might not have gone so smoothly. Looking back, I could see how God was watching over every little detail. My Mom was not at the store like she had planned on being. My Uncle Gary was available to save us a trip to the emergency room. My cut was in an okay spot.
I could now recognize all the little every day tasks that could possibly be dangerous but are not. I was more thankful than ever for how often I don't get hurt. Now, a few days later, I am able to use my right hand almost like normal, though moving my wrist very much is still not comfortable. In the mean time, my left hand is gathering some much needed coordination. But, thankfully, I can write and type just fine using both hands.
Gratitude this week--
71. My right arm is fine
72. My left arm has never felt better
73. My Mom was at home when I fell, and my Dad could come home quickly
74. My Uncle Gary was available
75. The card and candy canes sent with my Uncle Gary from my cousin
76. I didn’t have to go to the emergency room
77. I didn’t faint
78. We were able to have my PawPaw’s birthday/ family Christmas celebration Saturday night
79. The twelve of us laughing around the dining room table
80. All the broken glass is gone from my room thanks to my Dad
81. Christmas break
82. Intentional pajama days (I was in my pajamas much longer than I wanted to be on Saturday)
83. A fun time seeing the city lights Friday night
84. Supplies for Christmas treats sitting in our kitchen
85. That God can work everything out for good
So, this week before Christmas, I was reminded that my life is in the hands of God. It is a comforting thought, to know he's got you covered. But please, join me in being careful while standing on chairs! ~Megan