Exercise Injury: The Evil Bowflex in My Basement

When I was younger, I was always a complete dunce when it came to sports. I lacked coordination and didn't understand why it was okay for some kids to make fun of me for being bad at sports while I was not allowed to laugh at a bad speller (I excelled in academics).

Aside from jogging, I shied away from sports as I grew older. I even took fitness walking and modern dance courses in college to fulfill my phys-ed requirement after a half-hearted attempt at tennis that resulted in "overhead smasheeeees" after all-nighters.

Everything changed when I met Rick. We're married now, so it's fair to say he's looked past my clumsiness. Rick is a former Marine and really into physical fitness. I was open-minded enough to work out with him and after we moved in together, he bought a Bowflex machine (and yes, actually used it).

We worked out together frequently after he assembled the machine. One morning I decided to go down and start my workout in the basement gym area; Rick was upstairs waking up, presumably ready to come join me in the workout.

While setting up the equipment, I didn't realize that the Bowflex's elevated seat had no latch. While I was squatting and adjusting the equipment, it fell towards my head-and I tried to brace for the impact. I woke up later (maybe 15-30 seconds later?) and realized what had happened.

I screamed bloody murder.

Fortunately, our dogs were at the top of the stairs. (Despite being large dogs, they're afraid of steps.) They started barking and freaking out in a way I've never heard them do before, and that fortunately alerted Rick.

He was immediately at the stop of the stairs. I was still screaming and he was asking what happened. Later he told me that he was worried I might have been attacked by an intruder, and he was looking for a weapon.

Finally, I explained what happened and I put my hand to my head. I realized there was a little blood and got dizzy. I crawled up the stairs.

When I got to the top of the stairs, Rick rinsed my head and my hair out in the downstairs sink and examined the wound. The dogs were still worried and wouldn't leave my side!

Seeing the wound, Rick said it was time to go to the emergency room. It wasn't a horrible injury, but it needed stitches.

Great. Another head injury. (Flashback to 1999. High school graduation. A cardboard mortarboard smashed into my head causing a seven-inch head wound that had to be sealed with surgical staples. So when I say flashback...yeah, I was having one...complete with the horrible feeling that the kids who made fun of me in gym class were right.)

Fortunately, it wasn't too busy at the hospital and I was seen relatively quickly. Because it was metal equipment that had hit me, I was told I needed to get a tetanus shot. They cleaned the wound and told me to go to my doctor in a week to have the surgical staples removed. It wasn't nearly as bad as the first head injury.

The next morning, I actually thought I was paralyzed because it was so difficult to move my neck. When I went to the doctor, I was told that the ER physician had missed my concussion-and that sometimes symptoms do not appear immediately. I had post-concussion syndrome, and thus began my altered lifestyle of seeing chiropractors and neurologists regularly. These symptoms amplified migraine problems I was already having, but it also gave me a new outlook on life.

After several accidents (including three car crashes-that's a story for another time), I finally realized that it wasn't practical to work in an office and worry about getting fired because Bowflexes and rogue deer on the turnpike and stupid teenage drivers like to 'accidentally' attack me. So I became a freelance writer, which was completely the right choice for me.

All thanks to a significant bump on the head. And now I primarily stick to cardio.