Nose Breaks and Amnesia
I don’t know the clinical definition of amnesia, but still I use the word every time I tell the story. What I remember is walking very slowly back to my cousin’s house after playing at Stevenson School as my cousin was trying to take off my shirt. I was moaning from some pain and saw my blood flowing down my chest. My nose was bleeding out of control and my cousin wanted to stop the bleeding and saw in my shirt the solution. Before that, all that I recall was standing in the batter’s box at a friendly game of fast pitching. We used a rubber ball and a chalked box against the school’s brick wall.
The rest of the details I don’t remember, nor did I at the time. I had completely lost any memory of the previous 15 or 20 minutes. But this is what I have been told. I struck out, and my friend was up next. Some time during his turn at the plate, my friend flung the bat backwards. It landed squarely, without anything to mitigate, on the right side of my nose. I fell backwards over some bushes. The bat was thrown intentionally. My friend struck out, got angry, and threw the bat as hard as he could. He didn’t know where I was standing (his report). He and the others helped me get up. We finally walked to his house. His mother freaked out at my sight. She drove us to the hospital. There I stayed for five days after I had surgery on my nose. I was eleven years old at the time.
When I went home, I had plenty of sympathy. I got all kinds of games. My favorite one was a huge box filled with army men and military equipment. The carpet in our living room was at the time green. It was perfect for an all out war. And there I was in the middle of a huge military operation, deep in my pretending, which for a child is “real” in the moment. I then heard a voice commanding me to do something, despite my injury. My imagined scenario collapsed. The army men looked so plastic, no longer the commanders on the ground.
I have no idea why I’m writing about this now, but it came to my mind, so I place it here. Love that Blog-Rigor.
The rest of the details I don’t remember, nor did I at the time. I had completely lost any memory of the previous 15 or 20 minutes. But this is what I have been told. I struck out, and my friend was up next. Some time during his turn at the plate, my friend flung the bat backwards. It landed squarely, without anything to mitigate, on the right side of my nose. I fell backwards over some bushes. The bat was thrown intentionally. My friend struck out, got angry, and threw the bat as hard as he could. He didn’t know where I was standing (his report). He and the others helped me get up. We finally walked to his house. His mother freaked out at my sight. She drove us to the hospital. There I stayed for five days after I had surgery on my nose. I was eleven years old at the time.
When I went home, I had plenty of sympathy. I got all kinds of games. My favorite one was a huge box filled with army men and military equipment. The carpet in our living room was at the time green. It was perfect for an all out war. And there I was in the middle of a huge military operation, deep in my pretending, which for a child is “real” in the moment. I then heard a voice commanding me to do something, despite my injury. My imagined scenario collapsed. The army men looked so plastic, no longer the commanders on the ground.
I have no idea why I’m writing about this now, but it came to my mind, so I place it here. Love that Blog-Rigor.
posted by fromclay at 12/07/2006 08:11:00 AM
4 Comments:
Interesting story. Whose was the voice commanding you to do something?
Ya Haqq!
I guess that did sound mysterious. Didn't mean that. No spirits calling me, just parents, who are of the spirit world now, God have mercy on them.
If you were to take this as a writing already "written" in the "Mother of all Books" of Allah, then this blog is not a distant memory, but a calling...hmmm...And now while i'm at it, there is so much depth in this blogg...let's see: you were a kid, got hit in the nose, and then an "army", albeit useless, has to stand for something...ummm....well, let's just say, you didn't have amnesia, but suffered from what we call in military medicine "fog of war." Tayeb, salam alaikum wa rahmat Allah.
(oh, i'm a lit major so i like to read into writing, although nuts at times)
Well, Samer, interesting comment. Not sure exactly what you're saying, satire or real. Any case, welcome.
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