Youth not immune to wear and tear
When I was a young first-year waiting to take my Earth Science final, I overheard a fascinating tale.
One girl was telling another about a guy she knew who had been walking home from a house party the night before. He was substantially inebriated, and his altered state coupled with the cover of night made him a tragic victim of the ditch by the side of the road. The unfortunate party guest then crawled back up to the side of the road, where a Good Samaritan in a pickup truck drove him to the hospital. That morning he was nursing a broken ankle.
At the time, I marveled at how quickly a night could go so wrong — especially a Wednesday night. Since then I’ve learned that even (and often) without alcohol’s help, we young folks discover we are not invincible.
I’ve had my share of weird injuries since I started college. That same first year, I bummed the first of many rides to Sanford Clinic off of a friend when my big toe started hurting so much I could hardly walk to class. As a healthy 18-year-old I thought perhaps I’d broken my toe in my sleep somehow.
The doctor instead informed me I had tendonitis in my foot and prescribed rest. Luckily I was diagnosed with strep throat soon afterward, so this wasn’t much of a problem.
Earlier this year, however, I had a bit more trouble following doctor’s orders. I was enjoying my first year in an apartment with a room to myself, so I was spending less and less time in the library. Rather than sitting slumped in bed while I cranked out paper after paper, I thought I’d save my somewhat fragile back and sit at my desk — never mind the fact it had been clearly meant for writing and not typing.
Around October, first one wrist and then the other started hurting. This didn’t mean much to me until I couldn’t hold a pen long enough to take notes in class. Soon typing was so painful I had to factor regular cry breaks into my paper-writing.
Finally, I uncomfortably biked to the doctor. He deduced that I, at the ripe old age of 20, had the early stages of carpal tunnel in both wrists. This time the prescription was two weeks in wrist splints and better typing posture, lest I face corrective surgery. It was a challenge, but much more palatable than the alternative.
With these experiences in mind, you’d think I’d have gotten the message that young people are not immune to basic wear and tear. You’d think I’d take to heart the little pearls of wisdom we so often hear, like “lift with your knees.” Yet the debilitating back pain that has characterized these days following a weekend of filming would prove you wrong.
Youth does not equal invincibility, but it typically bodes well for adaptation. So take these as my end-of-semester keys to success: Bring a flashlight to the house party, wear shoes with good arch support and mind your typing posture. And for the love of all things bright and beautiful, lift with your knees.
