The Understated Um

I'm helping my boyfriend install laminate flooring in his house when my hand gets caught under one of the planks. He's standing, speaking about the grand plan of the floor as he unknowingly steps on the exact board that is covering my hand. 

 I wait until he finishes speaking, and then I say, “Um.... can you step off that board?”

“Why?” he asks.

“Because my hand's underneath it.”

He suddenly jumps back, his eyes widening with concern. He leans toward me, “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah,” I answer, rubbing my hand and trying to shake the pain out.

“Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, " Why didn't you say something?”

“I did.”

“Yeah, but you could have yelled or said 'ouch' or something. The appropriate response when I'm crushing your hand is not 'Um...'”

We'd been together around a year and a half by this time,so he shouldn't have been surprised by my lack of reaction. But to be fair, he comes from a nice, normal family, to whom injury is the exception, not the norm. I guess he's used to people being blindsided by an accident, and vocalizing it.

You see, to react the way he mentioned – by yelling or even saying “ouch”- would imply surprise. And a member of my family is rarely surprised when injury occurs. It's as if it's simply an unavoidable part of the day.

My twin sister, Kirsten, is the Queen of the understated “Um...” Our dad once rolled a broken- down car onto her foot and it took a while to explain to him what was going on.

“Dad, can you move the car?”

“I can't, Kirsten, it won't start.”

“Dad, can you please move the car?"

“It won't start, Kirsten, that's why I'm here...to try to fix it."

“Um, Dad? Please move the car. It's on my foot.”

Now, despite what I've said so far, the Schultz family – including nearly two dozen cousins – has a history of being athletic. I would confidently challenge any other family to a softball or kickball game any day of the week. As long as there was enough bubble wrap to go around. Not because we'd twist an ankle going after a grounder or get popped in the eye by a line drive. That would be highly unlikely. No, we're the kind of people who can play a whole game of basketball without getting hurt, step off the court to get a drink of water and chip a tooth . I have one cousin who accidentally flipped over while putting on a pair of pants.

When I was thirteen, someone in the great state of Kansas thought it would be a good idea to give Kirsten and I a spear and say, “Here, awkward, gangly thirteen year olds, run as fast as you can with this and then throw it!” Well, we survived that, and that spear (a javelin) eventually landed us college scholarships. It was during my involvement with the track team in college that I came to realize that not everyone shared these injury issues. It was, indeed, a trait unique to my family. There were, of course, the pulled hamstrings from overdoing it on the track, and the wrenched back from lifting too many weights. There were twisted ankles due to turning the wrong way while doing plyometrics.

And then, there was Kirsten and I.

The athletic trainers soon began a list of “Top 10 Self Inflicted Schultz Injuries.” The highlights of this list included:

1. Pulling a hamstring while crossing the street
2. Falling into a four foot deep hole while walking in the park.
3. Getting a concussion while jumping on a bed.
4. Spraining an elbow while eating breakfast.
5. Wrecking a stationary bike.

There were more, of course, but almost none of them included the use of a javelin, and absolutely none of them included the use of the javelin in the way a javelin is meant to be used. And for the record, there ended up being much more than 10 in that Top Ten List.

Since college, the list has expanded. There was the collarbone injury after spinning in circles under a giant Christmas tree. I injured my jaw getting out of my car. Kirsten managed to get hit in the face by an awkwardly-flying pigeon.

Not a week goes by without some odd injury or two. And I suppose the fact that I can't remember many of them is either a testament to how unsurprising they are, or the fact that I've landed on my head too many times while moving clothes from the washer to the dryer.

Either way, if you happen to hear my sister or I say, “Um," just grab the First Aid kit, and all will be fine.