When I tried to stand up to go into the kitchen yesterday, my leg didn't work. It just collapsed under me, and I fell rather ingloriously to the floor, harmlessly, but still frightened. I still don't know what happened. My knee was a little numb for a while but it was all right after a while.
But I'd been betrayed. I couldn't trust it anymore. As I walked down the stairs at the subway, every time I bent my leg I wondered if it wasn't going to freeze up again. And then what? Would I catch myself? Would I fall, just like I had before, slowly but unable to stop myself? What would people do? Would they do anything?
I knew I couldn't tell anyone about this. They'd say I need to go to the doctor or that my leg just fell asleep. It happens. You should stop sitting so weird. The thing is I'm not really afraid it'll happen again. They're right. I don't need advice. I need to forget what it's like to lose control like that. Where I don't know what it's like for your body to stop working, to betray you.
The worst part is nothing's changed. No one but me knows, and I'm not doing anything about it. There'll just be those thoughts. Waiting.
20090701
collapse
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Man, that was my Tuesday. In the course of less than two hours, I went from feeling completely healthy to being literally unable to stand up, walk, or form coherent sentences, let alone drive myself home from the office--Ross had to come pick me up. I've never had an illness onset that felt so much like a betrayal of control over my body.
Post a Comment