I come from a long line of klutzy people. In fact, if you trace my family tree back far enough, you’ll probably find that my ancestors courted each other by accidentally giving each other concussions or minor lacerations before stumbling up the aisle with twisted ankles and gashed shins. We’re good at physically hurting ourselves, my family – and in some cases, others – and I am certainly no exception to the rule.
And so I’m writing this from my bed with a cup of green tea at my side. I’m propped up with pillows and overdosing on throat lozenges. It may be purely coincidence, but I think I managed to cause a sinus and throat infection (which has now travelled south into my chest) by injuring myself in a most ridiculous way: I bashed a rat-tailed comb up my nose. Mom, you’re oddly proud, aren’t you?
Here’s how it went down (or UP, as this story goes): A few days ago, I was cutting Neil’s hair, comb and scissors flying with confidence. I’ve been cutting hair for more years than I can count, never professionally mind you, but competently enough that I made pocket change from it in the dorms when I was in art school and have cut the hair of family, friends, and loved ones for years before and after that time. I should be pretty smooth at it by now, and typically I am. However, my confidence was helpless against a klutz gene flare up.
Snip snip, grab comb from between my teeth, comb, pinch the hair between fingers, replace comb between my teeth, snip, repeat.
Over and over I did this until YIPE! I missed my mouth entirely with the comb and jousted the pointy end of the rat-tailed comb straight into the high, inner wall of my right nostril. WAY UP THERE. Talk about a pain sensation that’s hard to process. The nerves up there are normally so relaxed from rarely being called upon that when you thrust a comb up there they leap into a shocked and exaggerated frenzy. I started crying from the inside of my nose! I thought sure that there’d be blood, but no, just tears from my sinuses. (I prefer to not think of it as being buckets of watery snot, thanks.) The nerves all chilled out after a couple of minutes (they probably fainted) and I resumed the haircut. The next morning I woke with the beginnings of a nasty sinus infection and big ugly pain in my throat. Today, it’s migrated into my chest and I’m feeling very worn out.
Coincidence or the curse of the klutzy chromosomes? Hard to tell, but I’m typing this from bed and have spent most of my day here sipping green tea flavoured with Strepsils, sleeping, and counting the hours before I can take more cold medication.