Compartmentalising. It's such a big, intelligent sounding word. It's a skill I admire so much in anyone who has the power to do it. If you're one of those people who can say to yourself "I'll worry about that tomorrow" or "I'll deal with that in due course", and still manage to carry out the tasks at hand or sleep easy, while not letting something cloud your judgement- you really are super-powered! You possess a skill many don't! I always thought this was a near impossible thing for my 'Sophie Brain' to do, until I was put in some unbelievably challenging situations and somehow managed to switch my brain to a different frequency (for better or worse!) and put whatever it was in the big, rickety filing cabinet at the back of my mind. Mentally pulling out that rusty drawer that never gets used, and for once not allowing everything to flap around my brain's frontal lobe like a bird that flew in your house and freaked out.
Don't get me wrong, I don't always manage to do it, but certain things do help... Like leaving the country for one! Nothing helps my brain switch off more than buggering off to LA last minute! I appreciate that's not always feasible for all of us, and I'll admit it wasn't a financially sensible move for me either. It was largely irresponsible, but something/ someone (EVERYTHING) had royally pissed me off and it was the straw that broke the camels back. I needed to get away. My inner voice screaming "Screw you!!!" and my heart guiding my thumbs to click on the SkyScanner app. Although I didn't realise at the time of booking, it would transpire that I'd be having an MRI scan on my head just before I went, to check for any tumours on my pituitary gland. How lovely. But again, what better way to deal with 'Scan-xiety' as you await the results than a short but sweet trip to your favourite place?! Unlucky for me though, as my body seems to be the most sensitive thing in the world, I had an allergic reaction to the magnets and woke up with a burning rash across my face the next day. A 'very rare' side effect of MRI's, so I'm told. Once again validating the nickname I give myself of "Miss Side-Effects". You name 'em, I get 'em, no matter how weird or wonderful. Thankfully I could cover it with makeup, but my face was on FIRE for days and felt like cracking a piping hot boiled egg every time I smiled.
Tumours on my pituitary gland? Straight into the rusty filing cabinet that goes, as I immersed myself in palm trees, hiking, In-N- Out burger and the plumes of other people's weed as I strolled down Venice boardwalk.
I had my next important femur mission to complete while I was there. After visiting and reconnecting with great friends and loved ones, I needed to know my fabulous femur could handle the usual hikes I used to do when I temporarily lived out there in 2019.
Griffith Park (the trail that takes you up to behind the Hollywood sign. As high as you can go!) and Runyon Canyon. Both LA classics and done daily by locals and tourists alike. I started with the Hollywood sign hike, as I've always been obsessed with it and in my misguided memory, seemed to remember it being easier than Runyon. WRONG. I roped in my awesome Mexican actress friend and she drove us in her Tesla (like every true Angeleno) to a parking point at the bottom of the trail. This was after getting distracted en route by Peg Entwistle's house and the legendary tragic tale (Google it), then stopping to grab an iced matcha where Justin and Hailey Bieber go. All that set us back a bit which meant we were hiking at peak heat time; Midday 34°C heat and zero shade. Not clever for my jet lagged, hormonally fatigued self. But the magic of Hollywood land, my surroundings, my friend, and the promise of my favourite Van Leeuwen ice cream at the end, were enough to get me through! Like any climb it seemed to go on forever, but the reward of the view at the top was unlike any other.
I stood and took my victory shot, the giant Hollywood letters behind me and a huge amount of pride knowing that my femur is strong enough and capable of another monumental task. The hardest thing was the heat! As I turned around to admire the 360° views, my eyes set upon another lady at the top. Wearing a very similar outfit to me, my eyes were drawn to a long the scar all down her thigh. It was like looking in a mirror! I glanced down at my own scar then back up at hers... they were near identical! I knew she'd had femur surgery! Even to my untrained eye. I knew she was one of the few people who'd experienced exactly what I had; the pain, the trauma, the surgery... and making it to the top of this hill was just as monumental for her as it was for me. I didn't know how to even begin or if she even spoke english, as the person next to her wasn't doing- so I just pointed at her and yelled "FEMUR?!!!" It was like someone had shouted her name in a crowded room and she immediately looked at me and saw my scar.
"Oh, yes!" She beamed. I staggered towards her like a long lost relative, almost crying.
"Me too! When?" I asked. Her English was very broken but she replied "October, last year."
"ME TOO!" I screamed at her, at which point her English speaking daughter ran over and other hikers gathered round, all noticing the freaky and uncanny state of our scars and the mother of all coincidences unfolding before them.
It was one of the coolest and most coincidental things I'd ever experienced. You couldn't bet on it! At that time, on that day, on that hiking trail, in both our scar-showcasing shorts, the same bone, the same break, the same surgery, the same recovery time, the same achievement... it melts your brain the more you think about it! WHAT ARE THE CHANCES?!! I was all overcome with dumbfoundedness so didn't get her name, but we shared a hug and got some pictures.
(She broke hers just stepping down badly off a step by the way. I resisted the urge to ask did she too have osteoporosis and was a human glass slipper. But let's keep it positive and focus on how far we've both come!)
Me and my friend literally floated down that hill. Over and over again exclaiming "I just can't believe it!"
I do believe there is no such thing as coincidences. Everything happens to us for a reason and has a deeper meaning behind it. I've always felt that to an extent, but even more so since breaking my femur. For example- I hadn't stopped to grieve since losing mum. I refused to stop, kept going even though I was broken inside, ignoring other things like the fact I'd not had a period in three years, insisted on climbing the pit wall and had scheduled my grieving for when the season had ended. Until life went "NOPE! I'm going to MAKE you stop!! And your brokenness inside will physically manifest as a broken thigh until you face your health issues and heart issues. Teaching me that it doesn't matter how many jobs you book, how busy you are, stuff you buy, people you know... health is wealth and if you're not careful, your biography becomes your biology. I've still not figured out the meaning behind meeting that lady at the top of the Hollywood hill, but maybe it's to remind me I'm not alone in this. That the healing process may be long but you can conquer mountains. Just remember to stop, acknowledge your surroundings, and enjoy the view.
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