A Lil’ Bit of Scars, Unconscious & Boo-Boo

[ARTHUR chops the BLACK KNIGHT’s left arm off]
ARTHUR: Now stand aside, worthy adversary.
BLACK KNIGHT: ‘Tis but a scratch.
ARTHUR: A scratch? Your arm’s off!
BLACK KNIGHT: No, it isn’t.
ARTHUR: Well, what’s that then?
BLACK KNIGHT: I’ve had worse.

I have a lot of scars.

My first one, I was two years ago. My mother was hurrying up the narrow stair of Cote-St.Luc public library with me held tightly in her arms. She tripped and down came lil’ me. My Grandpa Julius brought me a chocolate ice cream. I wept because my chin was bloody mess. It hurt so bad. I remember standing and howling near the ice cream parlor.

When I was twelve years old, Jeff was charging at me, like some roaring bull. And, I turned my ankle slipped under the school yard fence. My ankle was torn to shreds. Then, several month later, I was walking and talking in the school yard, and my friend’s baseball bat swung for a ball. The bat hit me. Next thing I remember was my friends huddled around my body and a huge gaping ache that center in my skull and travelled out of my nausea to deposit hurts & dizziness wherever it goes.

One winter evening, when I was attending high school, my Newfoundland dog was howling on the deck in the backyard. My windows faced the backyard. I was conked out. I shouted at her. She didn’t stop. I got up to go hit my window. My right hand shattered my windows pane. And, I was numb. I cup my bloody hand and stumbled out of my bedroom to go to the bathroom and put my hand under the faucet and run freezing cold water. My parents suddenly opened the front door. They had come from their children’s hospital and they were exhausted. They both look up at me on my staircase landing. And, I said, “It’s not what you think it is”. (Teenager = fake suicide). My mom gasped. Then, she shut her mouth.

My dad made a beeline for the sofa and said, “I am not going back to my children’s hospital. Bring me some tape”.
Do we have bandage tape, here?
My dad answered, “Masking tape”.

I have some still photos in my long-term memory of him wrapping masking tape over my hand… The damn scab wouldn’t heal for the longest time. My skin refused to knit itself. There was a discoloration in the wound in my high school’s classes. First, burgundy-red, then, yellow-white and finally, nurses’ white.

I was biking and the idiot on the bike going towards me hit me. I only have pictures of the bike accident and I don’t know how I got there, but I was kneeling down on the asphalt and rocking back-and-forward like I was a Hesychast saying his prayers. My head was in pain. The idiot said, “I was going the speed!” Crowds around him and my aching head caused him to say, “Duh, D’you need any help?

In L.A. at the Aikido’s Dojo, my arms swooshed the black belt till he was lying on the mat. He reared up and proceeded to jam my knees. I fell to the mat right on top of him. My knees were hurting bad.

Seisen Bryer told me to walk it off.

One time, after Shabbat dinner in Santa Monica, I was walking on four paws and barking at my small dog (I was drunk) and Sammy was growling at me and suddenly he sank his teeth into my nose. I was in shock. It was sort of like Monty Python’s Holy Grail Dark Knight pouring blood from his own limbs. I could hear my heart’s beat because it was in time with my blood rushing out of my nose. Saffie was three year old. In the bathroom, she peered up at me, or, peered up at my nose.

My friend came to rush me to the hospital. The pretty blond haired resident said, “My syringe is going to prick your nose, five or, seven times.” For some reason, I and my friend were having hysterics. I don’t know what cause the teardrops: the resident’s syringe or, the laughter. Then, she got serious about getting some needle and thread.

When I was unconscious, I was in WWI being bombed out my wits. This same alternately reality kept coming back to me while I was unconsciousness. It’s like a film going forward. There I was. No length of Alon’s time has passed. The unconscious film inside my brain start again where I left off.

My mom stuck me with a syringe in Montreal’s children’s hospital. Unfortunately, I was standing and fell down. In CEGEP, I volunteered to give blood to Canadian Red Cross (I had this crush on this young woman).

Lately, about five years ago, about, I had a period of seizures. That was solved by my taking one pill. I found my body crumpled near my kitchen table. Where I am? Who is this? The ambulance came three different times. First, I was at free-form dance. The dancers send power to my soul. The second time, I was in my bathroom. My children’s au pair rang up Todd and she drove my daughters to school. Thirdly time, I was driving home from my children’s dentist and Bindi & Jazzy were in the back seats. I forgot to take my nighttime dose. I noticed an aura. The dashboard looked wrong. My neck & head pivoted to the rear window and I caught a glance of my children, then, I went blank. My car was drunk on the highway. Luckily, there were no car accidents.