It’s Me, Hi, I’m The Problem
I went to a close friend’s wedding, which was a tastefully intimate affair at the groom’s California beach house in Capitola. Despite being somewhat shy, I decided to join people on the dance floor. All heck broke loose. Almost immediately after getting there, I twisted my left leg with an audible crack.
I fell hard and, in my surprise, pulled my friend down with me as I lost support. I was oblivious to what had happened, but the excruciating pain was undeniable. They quickly ushered me out and to the side. A friend offered me some pain relievers, which I gratefully accepted.
I was desperately trying to keep my pain under control and to avoid being the center of attention. So I continued drinking and consuming pain medication. Only eventually, I blacked out from the combination. Then all my secrets came out. Apparently, I had a breakdown at one point, sorrowfully revealing to my friend that I had just found out my mother was diagnosed with cancer.
There was more that happened, but this was the highlight. In a haze, I somehow managed to return to my hotel room. The next morning, I awoke with an incredibly swollen knee and incredible pain. Like, the pain was unbearable.
At long last, I decided it was time to go to a doctor. The diagnosis was honestly devastating: a fragmented kneecap and a ruptured MCL. Following surgery three months ago, I am still undergoing physical therapy.