Two days after Halloween… While the pumpkin is sitting on the table, crying in silence to be carved out. (yeah… I know, sorry buddy… have been pretty behind on everything…) Suddenly SMASH! A mug breaks. (The pumpkin’s angry silent tears?) I actually don’t feel anything (except for some sadness for that mug I attached some meaning to)… until I see a thirsty piece of broken mug swimming in my foot slashed wide open, and, like a vampire, sucking joyfully on my blood, dripping on to the carpet. Wait, what? Pause. Deep breath in. Did a piece of mug just attack me?! (Now I wonder if the pumpkin has some special evil powers?!) From then on… I have one main line of dialogue: AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Very long Ahhs. No problem with belting and holding them. Even longer than a double whole note (for those who speak music). Maybe the key changes sometimes, I’m not really aware and I don’t care at that point. A river of tears supports and carries those Aaaaahhhhs echoing in the whole neighborhood. For those who know me, I have a very sharp, strong capacity with those gut-Ahhs…. that can wake up neighbors MILES around. Thing is neighbors know I’m an actress… I regularly rehearse and tape scenes. So, they hardly know when I scream for real or if I’m just acting. I am that good. Yup!
Firefighters first (they were closer, quicker), then EMTs. While I’m screaming my lungs out, my eyes closed and tearing, I hear footsteps (how many are they?) and voices: « Calm down. We’re just gonna take a look and make sure there is no other piece of glass in your foot. » I cannot look, I’m too scared. They wrap it. (Keep in mind the soundtrack is still going on with my AAAAAhhhhhs!) And here I am taken in an ambulance (when 2 days before, I literately looked up what it was like in an ambulance for a writing project! Be careful what you wish to know, the universe is more powerful than Google and always gives you an answer!)… (Wait a second! Sorry, but I have to take a quick pause here, open a parenthesis, acknowledge my brilliance and highlight the sentence! I mean, it’s pretty good, isn’t it? “The Universe is more powerful than Google!” Wow! Love it! That’s one of my I’m a genius moments. Don’t worry they don’t last. But I have to compliment myself sometimes, you know, to keep it going, writing is such a lonely activity, and even though SIRI is capable of understanding insults, I haven’t heard him (mine is a he) tell me a compliment ever!… « Hey Siri, am I beautiful? » « I have no answer for that. Is there anything else I can help you with? » « You suck! » « That doesn’t sound good. » « Of course, you have an answer for that, huh » What about you? Yes, « YOU » reading this, if « YOU » are reading me, I’m not even sure if there’s ever gonna be a « YOU »… I mean what are the chances that you come and land on my blog, and that you click on this post and read up to this point? OK, time to close these parentheses.)
Back to the ambulance. Bounced left and right, crying my eyes out and still screaming, in between some Aaaaah, I keep checking if I can move my toes (I saw them do that in movies), and I keep asking: « I’m going to walk right? Tomorrow I have to go to NJ, for my writers’ group. I’m not missing it! » (I’m very driven as you can see and you can add the word crazy to that sentence too.)
Now I’m at the hospital with a deep 4-inch laceration. That’s what the piece of « vampire-mug » did to me! While stitching me up, in between my same old one-liner: Aaaaaaahhhh I beg them to « put me to sleep, for God’s sake, your own ears’ sake and everybody else around!… For my sake?! I can’t take it anymore! Honestly, I’m losing my voice!!! » No response, the doc remains focused on stitching my foot (maybe hoping I will really lose my voice). What was supposed to be a 15 min “regular” procedure turned into an-hour of struggle with pain, and fighting with the doc trying to hold my foot to put it back together. (By the way, at this point, I think you got it guys? (I’m mainly talking to filmmakers for this parenthetical.) Because a reminder that I’m an actress is never gonna hurt like that piece of mug. Any role requiring horrific pain (and gut-screams), I’m your girl! Because that body of mine will never forget that longest hour of my life ever! lol) OK, so about 20 stitches (or more) later…
Silence. Empty. We are all feeling empty. Void of energy. Exhausted. I have to wait to be discharged. I wait. A long time! …. Returned to the quietness. Tic Toc Tic Toc. Now that’s the only sound I can hear. In my head. I also hear my stomach growling. I’m super hungry. I don’t know if the Doc is avoiding me, he walks by my room a few times, but won’t talk to me nor look at me. He probably hates me. I probably made him deaf and he decided to be blind as well? Whatever, I’m too hungry to worry about that. I start day-dreaming of some comfort food, some good brown rice tortilla bread from Trader Joe’s, I think I’m gonna get some chocolate too. I will get drunk with a ton of potatoes (I don’t drink alcohol – potatoes and sugary things are my go-to to deal with pain), I love them cooked in the oven. The Doc is finally back: « No weight on the foot. In 2 days, come back to unwrap it and check it. Keep it dry. And to help the scarring, keep your diet to protein and greens. No sugars and no carbs. » « Wait, what?!!… You mean like even bread?… Do you know I’m French?–« He leaves me no time to beg for my cause. He introduces me to two new « people » that will come home with me. They are twins, they never smile, but they are always there to help. First names: LEFT and RIGHT, they really don’t care if I interchange them, they are like identical twins, hard to tell the difference! Last name: CRUTCHES. We become friends really quick. We play jump together all the time… JUMP TO: After a few days of on-and-off throbbing pain (coming with lower-pitch Aaaahhs!) and burning sensations (now itching, (I know, it’s healing)), sore legs and back (and butt!!!), no independence at all (Thankfully I’m not alone in this journey!), a healthy diet (Who would imagine that you can get delicious meals out of asparagus, zucchinis, peppers, cabbage… and meat, even without bread? #frenchlearninglifewithoutbread), I’m face to face with my foot, wishing it was just a NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS Tim Burton movie and not MY nightmare before Christmas reality. Ironically… I have always been a fan of Tim Burton. And now I realize that all it was is Mr. Jack kissing me on my foot and leaving the print of his stitched lips there forever. Ahhh! (um- wait… hear this Ahhh more like a sigh Ahhh, and not like one of my gut-screams.) Isn’t that sweet? Mr. Jack and Me forever tied together.
I am still in recovery mode but the lesson is learned: We should have carved the pumpkin! That smile of Jack would be on that sweet orange face rather than on my foot!