Mayday

For today's Double X post, I wrote about blogger Sarah Scott. From her "Story of the Scar":

I struggle up to the summit and begin the mile-long downhill that ends with a 90-degree turn that takes you back to town. Only I don't make the turn, and the world goes black for how long I have no idea. I don't remember if the EMT woke me up, or I just came too on my own, but I remember looking down at my thighs and thinking about dead meat. Big hunks of dead meat.

It made sense for a long time actually, because my legs still felt like I was on my bike. My legs in my mind, were straight out in front of me riding an invisible bike, like I was piloting Wonder Woman's jet. Then the pain started rippling out from between my shoulder blades and I snap back and forth between the phantom limbs and the horrible pain that keeps getting worse and worse minute by minute.

The helicopter arrives and they whisk me away to the nearest trauma center. I don't remember crying but I remember my eyes being very wet, I was willing myself to keep it together for what reason I have no idea. In Triage they give me morphine and don't talk to me much, and I know by their faces that it's really, really bad.

That's her self-portrait you're looking at.