There is no point in suffering!
Let’s write without any niceties! Namely, the way it appears in my head! No need for any literary stuff!
And the words of my Lama appear in my head: there is no meaning in suffering! If you can change the situation, change it. Can not? — Turn around and do something different, useful. That’s what I told myself when I broke both arms at once at the stadium. More precisely, at that moment I did not say or think anything. I just lay there and waited. “Girl, did you break anything?” — I hear a man’s voice. “I think it’s broken.” — “Let’s try to get up.” The man is trying to lift me up. I know that it’s not worth getting up with broken body parts, but I won’t get up on my hands! Yes, and there is no strength to resist. The man lifts me by the arms, but I lose consciousness. “Can you stand?” — “It seems not.” — “Let’s try to get up!” He lifts me up again under the arms, but I again lose consciousness. The man gives up and calls an ambulance: “A woman fell at the stadium. Can’t get up.” After sitting next to me for a minute, he tries to lift me up again. I don’t resist, but having assumed a vertical position, I immediately fall unconscious. He gives up. Another man comes up: “What’s wrong with her?” “Yes, she trained like crazy! I have seen! And today it’s so hot!” The new man takes a bottle of water and starts pouring it on my head. “Better?” “Yes,” I answer, although I understand that water is not alive and will not mend my broken arms. Some fuss around me continues, but it’s impossible to say that I will make a splash in the entire stadium.
An ambulance arrives. They ask questions to the man taking care of me and carry me onto a stretcher. I ask the name of the man who took care of me. Vadim. The stretcher is carried into the loaf and the door is closed with a grinding sound.
The ambulance gives me the feeling of a hearse: hard, all around is made of iron, without signs of the comfort that you usually want to create for the living around you. I comment out loud. The paramedic is not surprised, does not show signs of resentment for his homeland: “Well, this is not the worst car yet.”
They bring him to the hospital emergency room. It’s cold there. Purgatory, I think. Experience tells me that I can lie here for a long time. I lie down and read mantras. A nurse comes up: “Can I help you with something? Maybe you need to call someone? — “Yes, I need to call my husband.” I show where my cell phone is. The nurse holds it, I dial the number with my left hand — it looks less injured or a little more even. The husband does not answer immediately in a sleepy voice. I describe the situation to him. Silent. “Yura, do you think you’re dreaming?” — “No. I understand. What need to do?” — “I’ll call you when I can be picked up.” I hang up the phone and lay back on the stretcher.
I read mantras. Surprisingly, I didn’t have to lie in cold purgatory for very long. “Gumerova! It is you?” — “Yes!” — “Go!” — “Where?” — “To the operating room.” They’re taking it. I want to joke about the morgue and the Archangel, but I remain silent. I look into the kind but stern faces of the orderlies.
They brought me in and transferred me to the operating table. Two nurses and a surgeon begin to cast spells on me. Sensitive moment. “Doctor, are they broken or just dislocated?” — “Broken.” I see… But there is no point in suffering. If you can change the situation, change it! If you can’t, do something else. And I begin to tell the sisters and the doctor a funny story about how I broke my leg in India. About what the inside of an Indian hospital and operating room looks like, how I reacted to the jokes of the Indian doctor and nurses who saw the shock in my eyes. How my friend who accompanied me, an Indian doctor who spoke Russian, teased me. I managed to surprise my sisters and raise enthusiastic questions. The surgeon was deaf and dumb — he did his job: he put blockades on me, stretched and twisted my arms, gave commands to the sisters “put it on, fill it, fix it… rearrange the table…”. From time to time, some heads looked into the operating room: “Alexey, are you coming soon? There are multiple cut wounds here. Hurry up!” What delicacy! “Well, how long do you have to go? We are waiting for you!” Is it okay that I’m lying here?
“Are you going to stay in the hospital or do you want to go home?” — they asked me at the end of the operations. “Home!” — “Is there anyone to look after at home?” — “Eat.” They bring papers denying hospitalization. I sign.
I am transported back to the cold waiting room. The same nurse comes up: “Do you need to call someone?” — “Yes.” We call my husband. We wait. I lie down and read mantras. I would turn on an audiobook, but it’s difficult to use my hands in a cast. Only the tips of the fingers stick out.
At home. Now we need to somehow understand how to live with only one pair of hands for two. I give myself three days to get used to the new realities, and decide to go to work on the fourth day. The brain is intact! I even had a CT scan of my brain done at the emergency hospital to make sure there was no brain injury. No injury. But they found out that I definitely have a brain! So I can work with my head!
Only my clients froze every time at the entrance when they saw my two casts: “Oh… how will you work?” — “Head!” The brain is not damaged! But now I know for sure that I have it!”
This is not to say that I did not have pain, sadness and other difficult feelings during this period, which lasted about three months or even a little longer. But I didn’t invest time and energy into these difficult feelings and experiences. Because there is no point in suffering! If you can change the situation, change it! If you can’t, do something else!