Looking back on my childhood self, I couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of the kids with broken bones. Not in a sadistic way by any means, but I was jealous of the attention one received (and probably the missed class days).
I yearned for the neon cast filled with the names of all my friends but alas, I had never broken a bone in my life until May 8, 2019 on a nice cool evening in Pittsburgh while testing out my new rollerblades.
It’s pretty hard not to get excited about a tax refund. For many folks, I would assume they use this annual check given to us by Uncle Sam as a means to catch up on some payments and use this money in a financially responsible manner…. Not me.
I for one chose to spend my small earnings (still in graduate school so please hold the judgment) on brand new rollerblades.
This summer I am interning with the Pittsburgh Pirates and they have a lovely stadium situated neatly along the Ohio river. I would like to call the river beautiful, however, it rains a lot in Pittsburgh which makes it often look like something that overflowed from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.
Feeling a bit homesick, the pathway along the river reminded me a bit of home from when I would rollerblade in Santa Monica. But I should have known better for the last time I rollerbladed (almost a year to the date I broke my wrist) the wheel detached from my skate and I hit the cement hard.
Despite pondering over the idea of using my tax returns as a responsible gateway into paying off my credit card, I not only bought rollerblades, but I also purchased a nice bag with a strap to carry my blades as I was planning to make this a weekly thing after work throughout the summer months.
Once my rollerblades had arrived at my apartment, I could not wait to test these puppies out. I waited until the perfect day had arrived to take them out and ride.
After work, I ventured over to the parking lot and strapped on my new shiny black rollerblades with mint green wheels and laces to match. As I was strapping up my skates, I waved to my coworkers who wished me a good afternoon.
Do you ever get the eerie feeling in the air before you do something you know is about to end badly? I feel like I might get that feeling more often than not and yet…I never learn.
Despite the overwhelming feeling of dread, I do what I always do.
I said, “fuck it,” and I was cruising!
In order to get to the Riverwalk, I had to climb down a set of stairs and remove my blades. Upon placing them back on my feet, I was approached by a woman who appeared to be on something that very much altered her perception at the time.
She spoke quick and rapidly which made it difficult to follow along. She explained to me how she admired how kids now a days still rollerblade instead of being glued to their Gameboys.
Two thoughts ran through my mind at this moment.
- I am not a child; I am 24 years old. But to give this woman the benefit of the doubt, I get this all the time
- What decade did these drugs launch this woman into?
I decided to sit down for a bit before I took off. As I was not even 5 minutes into my skate session I saw the same woman ahead and said, “On your right, on your right,” with the hopes that she would move.
That did not happen.
She looked at me and froze in panic. I tried to avoid her but I wound up smashing all 115 lbs of me right onto my right wrist
Immediately I knew what had happened.
Well the first thing I actually noticed was that I kind of peed my pants a bit and shortly thereafter I noticed the wrist. It was VERY broken. I could practically see the thing shooting out of my lower arm.
I splattered onto the cement and didn’t know what to do.
The weird lady of whom I partially credit my demise to was trying to help me back onto my feet… except there was only one problem: I AM ON ROLLER SKATES!!!
Thankfully two other women witnessed the whole shebang and were able to grab my once beloved skates and escort me back to work.
My only issue with breaking my wrist is that I did not know anyone in Pittsburgh at the time besides my aunt who was currently on her way back from Ohio. Therefore the only people I knew were my coworkers at my internship in which I had just started.
Sometimes having no shame truly comes in handy.
I called one of my coworkers of whom I barely knew, and she so kindly ditched her spin class and chauffeured me to the hospital.
Upon arrival I was greeted by an apparently deaf associate who attempted to take my information at the front desk. I essentially had to scream my social security number to everyone in the waiting room as I had to repeat myself five times.
But honestly at this point in my life, I can’t think of one person who would truly want to steal my identity/be me.
Once I was secured in my pink “fun box” as I like to call it to stable my wrist, I was able to call my mother to inform her of my mishap.
While I explained the current predicament I was in, she was more concerned by the fact that I had actually wasted money on rollerblades and completely disregarded the bone that was protruding out of my body causing me ample amounts of pain and discomfort.
“Why the hell would you buy rollerblades?”
“I really think there are more important things at this moment than my latest Amazon purchases, MOM!”
I was soon guided back to urgent care where it felt like I was being man handled to get my X-rays because I could not move my right arm.
“I hope you have nothing planned for the next few weeks,” the technician explained.
“No,” I responded. “I am only supposed to graduate on Saturday and leave for Mexico on Sunday.
Things got awkward really fast and then I let out a nice big ole psychotic belly-laugh because I could not believe the situation I was in.
But don’t you worry, things did get worse.
Because I had broken my bone clean…. they needed to reset my wrist. It was just my LUCKY day that the resident who was assigned to me was in a training period with another orthopedic resident.
This was a picture I had requested him to take of me before I was the recipient of his medical torture.
He had to reset my wrist twice before I looked over at his supervisor and unapologetically asked, “I know this is a learning experience but this really fucking hurts. Can you please do it?”
Here is the picture after I was allowed to leave the hospital.
If you look closely, I am not wearing any shoes. Almost every medical personnel in the hospital kept asking me, “Why aren’t you wearing any shoes?”
I was roller blading bitches!! Do you want me to blade through your halls and mess up someone else’s life?
The following weeks were not as bad as I thought they were going to be.
I decided to skip my graduation and opted for my favorite brewery in Morgantown. And although I missed out on Mexico, it was a school sponsored trip and therefore I did not lose any money.
Additionally, I have a new found love and respect for my non-dominant hand of which I do not think we show enough appreciation for on a daily basis. This blog post honestly should have been titled “A Love Letter to my Non-Dominant Hand.”
Honestly, one of the hardest parts was learning how to use the bathroom in comfort with the sole use of my non-dominant hand. Knowing of my hardships, my friends bought me a toilet aid tool that extends for long reach comfort!
(Thanks Maureen, Lats, Carolyn, Olivia, Katie, Kelli and Emma!)
While going through the process of recovery, I was further able to use this downtime as a means to reflect on what I had really been missing out on… Game of Thrones.
I blew through almost 3 seasons in two weeks like true psychopath and finished the entire series in less than two months.
Despite all the jokes I do think it’s important that I was able to turn a really crappy and unfortunate situation into a story for the books… because honestly, who else does this happen to?
I guess that’s just how I roll with things!!!
It has certainly made me a memorable intern for the Pirates.
I will probably be forever referred to as, “the moron of an intern who broke her wrist rollerblading outside of the ballpark.” And not to mention all the other stupid things I have done this summer… like my car being towed last week.
This was also a humbling experience.
Has anyone else ever asked their boss of a few weeks to put their hair in a pony tail? Or how about asking a coworker to tie your shoes and cut up your salad?
Nope? You haven’t? Geeze my reader(s?) are so lame.
Skate on mother fuckers.
Cheers,
Erin
Overwhelmingly Erin 