Just Breathe

I stood in the kitchen staring at all the blood on the floor. I’m not going to the hospital; I’m not getting stitches. Those were the only thoughts running through my mind. When I felt myself falling, I called for my husband. Years of yelling his name paid off. I heard his office door squeak open. “I need help,” was enough to get him racing down the stairs.

“I’m not getting stitches,” I told him. He took one look at my thumb, “why not?” That’s when reality collided with my stubbornness, and I keeled over. “What’s the matter with me? I’m going to be sick!”  He guided me to the downstairs bedroom. “You’re going into shock.”

Shock? But it’s just a cut. A stupid mistake. How did I get from happily baking pumpkin muffins while listening to Ed Sheeran to lying in bed with my feet and thumb elevated?

I panicked. That’s how. While there really was very little pain the thought of future pain, needles, thread, sitting in an emergency room, was enough to make me pass out. My mind was struggling between what I absolutely didn’t want to do with what might be necessary.

I was the worst patient. When Eric wanted to put iodine and then alcohol on my thumb, I was ready to fight back. “What’s that? Is it going to hurt? Why do we need to do this?” Immediately I was transported back to my childhood, arguing with an adult that told me Bactine didn’t sting. I insisted the advertisement was wrong, and it definitely stung!

I don’t like being sick. I don’t like the feeling of not having control over my body or my health. My first instinct is anger, apparently followed by panic.

As I laid there with my feet up, I thought about my meditations. I needed to stop the battle in my mind. I concentrated on my breath. It worked! I felt my body relax. My thoughts only on breathing in and breathing out. Whenever the image of a needle arose, I quickly refocused with a deep breath in. My eyes closed. I accepted the moment. I listened to Eric in the kitchen finishing the muffins I had started. Eventually, I began to find the entire fiasco funny. The writer in me searched for the lesson. Was it that I have no tolerance for pain, and I’m a big baby? Was it that I have a husband who loves me despite my feistiness and will be there for me when I need him? He even sat next to me and played guitar until I could get back up again. Very sweet. Of course then there’s the obvious lesson…don’t try and push open the lid of a half-open pumpkin can with your thumb. Maybe next time use an electric can opener or buy a new manual opener…one that opens the entire lid.

Things happen in life despite our plans. We get sick, cars break down, appliances stop working, the new healthy pumpkin muffin recipe turns out to be better-suited as dog treats, things happen. Because those unexpected events are not in our plans, they can become battles in our mind. Reality versus expectations and everything you could’ve or should’ve done to prevent the incident from happening in the first place. Accepting what is and moving forward was my lesson. Even though I had no idea what would’ve happened if I had gone to the emergency room the thought of it was enough to make me faint. The same mind that got me through a 9-mile run earlier that day also caused my body to go into shock over images of what I had seen in the movies of stitches. The quickest way to move beyond a situation is to accept it, do what needs to be done to get past it, and keep going. Looking back, fighting back, struggling with thoughts of how you could’ve prevented it all causes more pain. Just breathe.