Tackling the statistics head-on

In one way or another, I managed to survive my entire childhood and adolescence without the need for a single stitch or injection, somehow managing to sidestep, dodge and duck the many possible mishaps that a girl with tomboy tendencies could encounter. No broken limbs, no after-hour trips to the emergency ward, no, nothing more than a twisted ankle and a regular selection of bruises.

In China, the opportunities for injury abound – if you’ve read some of my other posts, you will know that the statistical probability of traffic accidents is relatively high – by motor vehicle or bicycle or even fellow-pedestrian. Anything can and will happen. There have been reports of falling panes of glass from high-rise buildings; elevators going into reverse; balconies falling off buildings – the list is endless.

Up until Saturday I had defied the negative statistics and complemented myself on being remarkably unscathed and immune to the chaos that surrounds us. [Correction: Except for stepping into a hole in a construction site in Guilin in 2008 and walking into an eye-level overhead cable soon after we arrived in Shanghai in early 2009.]

On Saturday my immunity expired – I had a close encounter with a Chinese pathway and patch of grass – not just any patch of grass, as it turns out, but a patch of grass inlaid with spiky plastic mats.

I still cannot describe the precise order of events. It just happened. One minute I was setting out for a run, checking my running app on my phone, and the next minute, I was lying in a heap, bleeding from multiple gashes in my face. It appears that I was making up for all those times when I DIDN’T get into trouble – so I really made a good job of it this time.

M rushed me back upstairs, using his handkerchief to mop up the blood, looked at me in horror and dashed me off to the medical centre (as much as one can dash in a Shanghai taxi in early Saturday morning traffic with 3 minute cycles on the traffic lights at every intersection from here to Nanjing Road)

We camped outside the clinic door until they opened at 9.00, encountering the first of many stares – poor M – I’m sure he is getting his fair share of stares too – glaring accusations of wife abuser and so on. The clinic staff immediately placed a call to the plastic surgeon, who had to travel 1 and 1/2 hours to reach us.

To cut a long story short – my face is an interesting blend of yellow and purple and dark red seemingly random squiggles, betadyne make-up and stitching, and Chinese elastoplast. I had to have my chin, lip, nose, cheek and forehead stitched up. I am ashamed to admit I whimpered like a woes during each injection – there were at least 10 or 12, and it did nothing to improve my dislike of anyone in the medical profession. It is a well-known fact that I avidly avoid dentists, ophthalmologists and doctors as far as possible – they always bring pain into my life. And this Chinese doctor, a professor, trained in Shanghai and Germany, very skilled and competent in in his chosen field – well, he might be good, but he hurt me and even if  I could have laughed at his jokes, I didn’t find them at all funny.

M says my face is looking much better – he has sat through many a stitching up procedure with his children and reckons this guy is a skilled craftsman and knows his stuff – my facial wounds are currently down to a grade 3 war zone instead of the trench warfare scenario they initially resembled. I will give you my verdict once the stitches are out in a week’s time; after my black eye has mellowed to a lighter shade of purple; and as soon as the intricate dried blood textured patterns caused by those spiky grass mats have dissipated. My lip hurts – it really doesn’t appreciate being hemmed; eating and drinking is problematic; and it doesn’t look like I will need Botox for a while (as if I would ever CHOOSE to let anyone inject anything into me!)

So that’s my week – no photographic evidence – cameras are banned from our household for at least a month.

I am actually fine, just feeling very sorry for myself and highly irritated that something so absolutely ridiculous happened. I can’t wind back the clock, so I guess I shall just have to grin – smiling and laughing is still too painful – and bear it. Actually grumble, mutter, sigh and spit are more likely responses than grinning at the moment.

So what started off as your average, uneventful, common old garden Saturday morning jog around the park turned into a VERY expensive non-running session, providing a very profitable sewing opportunity for the plastic surgeon. Not my favourite way to spend a Saturday morning.


8 Responses to “Tackling the statistics head-on”

  1. 1 cheryl
    October 30, 2012 at 15:42

    Dawn, this is awful! What on earth were the spikes doing in the grass? Hope you are feeling better every day x

    • October 30, 2012 at 15:48

      The gardeners lay down these little plastic mats to help the grass take hold in the sandy soil – unfortunately they appear to be more dangerous than they look – but then I have never tried to look at them this closely before.

      Getting better every day, thanks – just feeling and looking like an eejit.

  2. 3 Judith Farnworth
    October 30, 2012 at 17:27

    OMG Dawn how awful is that?? Will you be left with scarring on your face? Expect it is difficult to tell at this stage…. hope you recover quickly, the not being able to drink is a problem … sounds like exactly what you need!!!

    • October 30, 2012 at 17:34

      Thanks, Judith – yes, I also hope the prof is as good as he says he is – will just have to wait and see. Tea can be “slurped” sort of sideways from a mug and the difficulties I encountered with the shape of a wine glass are easily remedied with a straw! So all is well there!

  3. 5 June
    November 10, 2012 at 14:33

    Dawn I can’t believe I missed this blog entry. It was a complete shock hearing about it from you yesterday – this is awful – can you sue them !!!! they should put up warning signs – what about walking on the grass – must be like Indian fire walkers but with a Chinese twist – I always knew running is not for the faint hearted x

    • November 11, 2012 at 15:24

      Unfortunately putting up warning signs “Please keep your face of the grass” would be a bit like putting a warning label on your microwave “Not safe for pets” – I mean, who would deliberately plant their face in that grass? So, no, don’t think I can sue anyone. Just have to write it off to experience and bemoan my own clumsiness and lack of care.

  4. 7 Jenny
    November 15, 2012 at 12:37

    Gosh, Dawn! Been away so just seen this. What can I say? You be living in a dangerous place, yes?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 20 other followers


October 2012
« Sep   Nov »

%d bloggers like this: