Hello and welcome back viewers! WARNING: there are pictures and they contain bleeding and bruises.
Some background info before I launch into my latest post: we are an extremely international family. I am a Swiss American; my dad was born and in Switzerland, moving to the US at age 32; and we adopted my two brothers from Japan. My parents have both lived in three countries each. My dad has lived in Switzerland, England, and the US for a time, while my mom has lived in the US, Japan, and Switzerland. Since my dad can work in Switzerland, we’ve been able to visit Switzerland almost every year of my life. I was also able to visit Japan when I was four and seven to pick up my brothers.
We were in Switzerland for a couple of weeks this summer. My mom has noted that we always gain more injuries while we’re in Switzerland rather than the US. Why? We simply do more stuff here! We stay in a rural area of Switzerland close to my Dad’s huge family. It’s a beautifully lush, green area with lots of nature. We’re outside a lot.
This year, I took the cake for most injuries.
You can definitely laugh at me for the first one. I didn’t really know how to use a can opener, so I was only able to get the lid halfway open. I decided to just grab the lid and peel it open further, which was an extremely stupid idea. Hindsight is 20/20.
My second Swiss injury this year was a bit more extensive.
Near our apartment is a mini-mountain. My Dad calls it a hill but, to our family from flat as a board Indiana, it looks pretty high! You can take a gondola to the top of the mountain, and then climb the various trails at the top. One day, my dad, two brothers, Noah and Lucas, our guest, Melody and I decided to go up the mountain. We walked the trails and then were figuring out how to go down.
There are several options to go down the mountain: either taking a gondola, walking, or scootering. Iwanted to walk; I was carrying my World Race backpack to practice, and I wanted to get the steps in.
However, my dad nixed the idea, and we tried to scooter instead. Key word, try. See, I had never used a scooter like this before, and the trails were steep. I rapidly gained speed, surpassing everyone in our group. Trying the brakes, I would try to stop, then fishtail, which I quickly learned was a horrible idea. I knew I needed to stop, and fast,before I got hurt.
Spoiler alert. I got hurt anyway.
I passed a grove of trees, and then a rocky clearing. I slammed on the brakes and yeeted (threw) myself to the left. It hurt. A lot. I’m just grateful that I was wearing a short sleeve shirt, as opposed to a sleeveless shirt.
I started having a panic attack when the pain finally hit, hyperventilating. My dad and younger brother, Lucas, walked me back up the mountain to the gondola station, where he and a lady fixed me up, while my other brother Noah and our guest Melody scootered the rest of the way down the mountain.
[Photo of me and Lucas at Wasserfallen afterwards]
As you can see from the pictures, most of my left leg and left arm were covered in scratches and bruises. I had abrasions up and down my body from shoulder to knee. For the next week, I yelped any time someone touched my left side. But it was fine. I’m right-handed.
But here’s the clincher. I injured my right hand more than my left. My mom figured it out; I’m right-handed, so I must have thrust my right hand out to catch myself instead of my left.
That’s just great! Of course it was my right hand! I could barely use my right hand since it hurt so much to do anything! I tried to only use my left hand, and that did not pan out. So pushing through the pain, I used my right hand, and got used to the twinges of pain radiating through my hand.
“But Lexie,” you’ll say, “What does this have to do with the World Race?” I’m glad you asked! I am 100% confident that I will get injured on the World Race. In what manner or capacity, I don’t know. I hope it won’t be debilitating, but only God knows.
But by gaining this injury, I realized that I’ll need to know first aid like the back of my hand. Or at the very least, a rudimentary knowledge of the multiple things inside my first-aid pack. What if someone in my group gets hurt, and I’m the only person who knows what to do? What if someone gets an injury like mine? My mom has signed me up for a CPR/First Aid course. If I hadn’t gotten hurt, I’m not sure we would have done that.
Using my right hand hurt. But I am right-handed, so it was necessary to use.
I was lucky. I gained my injury while we were vacationing in Switzerland, so I was able to lay down in my bed with an icepack in the days afterwards. On the World Race, I’m sure we won’t be allowed that luxury, of either laying up in bed or not using a hand. I’m glad I was able to learn this lesson early. I just hope I won’t have to put it into practice too many times on the World Race.
But of course, I hurt my right hand. I’m well-known in my family for being the person saying “Of course x happened to me, that’s how life is.” And isn’t that a stupid perspective to have? There is no “of course.” Bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people. Whatever happens, God is working behind the scenes for our good, even if we don’t see His plans. We have no way of predicting what will happen to us, and shouldn’t act like it’s typical for something bad to happen because our life just sucks that much. Instead, we need to roll and adapt with it.
Adding onto this, the human body is truly miraculous! Within three days, I was on my feet again and walking with my World Race backpack to practice using it. It reminds me of 2 Corinthians 12:7-9. I will bear whatever injuries I get, and use them to further myself for the Lord. Amen!
See you guys next week!
Signing off,
Sunny.
Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. ~2 Corinthians 12:7-9
