photo by Hank Topper


Belle, with her shoes untied and half off her feet tore across her kitchen and lived to regret it. Suddenly her shoe fell off catching her off guard; she collapsed. Her jaw hit a wooden bench and her knee the floor. The sound echoed off the walls as I sprinted in to find the source of the booming crash. Belle, standing up, walked to the bathroom to inspect herself. I fantasized the source of the noise; did she fall and hit her head on the corner of the table? “Belle are you ok? What did you do? Do you have all of your teeth?” I inquired. Feeling around in her mouth, Belle informed me they were all there. Beads of ruby blood accumulated on her upper lip. “I hit my jaw” she said, barely opening her mouth. “Can you open your mouth at all?” I ask. “Not really. Only a little bit.” Belle replied. She opened it to show me then winced in pain. Josie entered the bathroom with Elisa “What happened?” they ask. I fill them in because Belle didn’t seem to be able to do much talking. “Are you ok?” questioned Elisa. The muffled response was indecipherable. “Why don’t you hold a tissue to your lip to stop the bleeding” Josie suggested, handing Belle a Kleenex. “Ice, maybe?” I said. Belle shook her head and we followed her out to the car. We piled in and Josie drove to the store. Belle is a talkative person and I have never heard her be quiet for so long and not be sleeping. We found an empty table in the addition and settle down. After I ask about thirty questions I realize that it was pointless; Belle couldn’t answer without pain. “Does your lip hurt? Or is it your jaw?”The answer was short and to the point “Jaw.” Belle couldn’t eat anything that involved chewing, so the fact that she had a party that afternoon and one that evening made that harder.

Over breakfast the next day she managed to eat part of a pancake while her sisters decided that her jaw needed to be amputated. I have to admit it was a funny picture, someone with only an upper jaw. Her cheeks would droop and her mouth wouldn’t close, probably causing you to drool a lot. Belle wasn’t too enthusiastic about the whole thing. Later at my birthday lunch that Belle lovingly prepared for me she expanded her diet to noodles too. After the party Aunt Kate, Belle’s mom, brought Belle, Elisa, and me to the doctor’s  to get Belle’s jaw X-rayed. I’ve never had an X-ray or broken my jaw and I learned four things:  1) You have to wear a paper towel dress when you get an X-ray. 2) If you break/fracture your jaw in the back they wire it back together (Belle was lucky enough to not have this done). 3) You get the X-ray photos on C.D. and 4) Even when you are eleven you get a pregnancy test before you get an X-ray. It turned out she had fractured her jaw in the front. The incident may or may not have taught her to never run with untied and half off shoes.

6 thoughts on “guest post (from the birthday girl)

  1. AUGH! As they say in obedience school, “HEAL!” Hope Belle is feeling better.
    Congratulations to all who are celebrating! Let’s help Belle make it to the next celebration without any more injuries!
    –Wendy in Washington, whose jaw hurt just reading this post

  2. What a great post. Thanks for filling us in on the results of the x ray. As you know, we were there the day after the fall and Belle was handling things remarkably well. I was with her a lot while she made the cake and never even knew about her jaw until much later. She was quiet but I thought that was just Belle. Hope you had a great birthday. Love, H

  3. Harriet says she hates compliments (I say, Get used to it babe. You are a good writer.) and one of my pet peeves is parents who go on and on about how amazing their kids are, but it is good and thank you! I’m very happy to know her-I’ll leave it at that. Also amazing- Belle, who didn’t even cry and made it to every party. What a girl!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s