The Giraffe Who Sprained Her Neck

Do not be alarmed. I was not in a car accident, I didn't get mugged, no one tried to beat me up, and no, I didn't get into a catfight at a club. I don't need any help getting hurt, since I am Klutzo Bizarro! I didn't even need to leave the house to hurt myself this time. I am dangerous when awake, and apparently, even when I am sleeping.

I woke up this morning, feeling fine, until I attempted to move my head/neck slightly to the left, which caused me to curse. A lot. So I slept funny and woke up with a sore neck. This happens to me once in a while, I'm like a meatloafing contortionist in my sleep and unfortunately my neck is not actually made of rubber so I do occasionally wake up with a sore neck. However, I must give credit where credit it due. I really topped myself this time. I kept testing my available neck mobility range and was not too pleased. I used a lot of four letter words which I hope my neighbours did not hear. That's no way to wake up, after all, listening to an annoying American curse her klutzography of a sprained/strained neck.

I really thought about staying home from work today, but kept remembering things I had to do and I hate taking sickies unless I'm dying (I know, I'm insane). But I figured, how hard could it be to sit in front of a computer all day? Well, I must have blocked the blood supply to a few brain cells when I was busy twisting my gumby-like neck in my sleep last night, as guess what? I got to work and could not find any comfortable way to sit without holding my neck with one hand, supporting it. Which only left me one hand to type with. Not good.

I have never had a neck brace before. I loathe them. They look so dumb. I knew I would look so dumb. But after several hours of swearing under my breath and using my hands as a make-shift brace, I realised this was not the time to let petty pride get in the way. So I went to the chemist and the pharmacist helped me try on the neck collar, and she helpfully tried to turn my neck to the left, because, of course, that is the direction it can't turn in. I thought maybe my honest wince of pain might guilt her into cutting me a break on the collar, but alas no. Oh well.

So I look stupid, but the collar does take some of the pressure off. It does help.

I got plenty of weird looks when I walked home from work today and I realise in retrospect that it was probably more to do with the length of my neck rather than the actual collar. Glenn came over to pick up his boxes and his TV (sob! No more remote control!) and I warned him not to freak out. I told him I was wearing a neck brace but that it was no big deal, I just strained some neck muscles from sleeping funny, yadda yadda. Of course he took one look at me and freaked out. He kept saying, "Oh god." Then he said, "I never realised how long your neck was before." I reassured him that I have indeed always been a giraffe with a long neck. He was like, "Well, that collar thingy sure does make your neck look longer!"

It reminded me of my modern dance teacher at BU who used to always comment about my 'swan-like neck,' my 'petite frame' and my 'perfect feet arches' - she told me I had the body of a dancer. Hahahahahaha, but that was before she found out I have the soul of a klutz.

I was explaining to a friend tonight about how I managed to screw up my neck enough to embarass myself by wearing a neck collar, just by sleeping, and he said, "Wow, You are truly one of the weirdest people I know." He seemed so surprised that a body could do this. Was I surprised? Hell no. Let's just say that after you break your arm while playing tag and manage to dislocate your knee (the first time) while standing absolutely still, you don't really get too surprised by your body anymore. It's always an adventure.