When You Give a Girl an Atlas

As preface for this story, it’s necessary for me to make myself very vulnerable to your judgment by confessing my paralyzing phobia of heights. When I say paralyzing phobia, I mean a panic attack inducing, hyperventilating, tunnel vision, and wide-eyed fear. Entering university, I intended to tackle my fear head on, so that first year, I accomplished the first step of my four-year, four step plan. I slept in a lofted bed for the entire school year.

A natural and logical progression, at least in the hedge maze of my mind, was to head off to a scenic, humid, cultural antithesis to America, Thailand, to conquer moving heights by riding an elephant.

So I steeled myself mentally and booked a flight. I spent the day with a whole family of Thai elephants, riding them, bathing them, feeding them, scooping up their poop…Admittedly the last bit of that was not as pleasant, but worth it, because in the end, we all received kisses as reward for caring for these wrinkled, wise-looking creatures. So with great aplomb, our new grey-trunked friends gave us suction-y, smile inducing kisses on our necks and faces.

Weary and worn, and smelling of the sun, my friends and I headed back to our hostel to scrub and sleep off the day and as the next morning broke, I was shaken awake by my anxious friend, brows furrowed, asking me to take a look at something.

Now, I had seen the symptoms before, but never in such an exaggerated manner. The bruising was uncanny, and the circular shape, unmistakable. I recalled the endearing cause of this unusual affliction and the set of circumstances leading up to this wound. If time travel were possible and the current version of myself could go back to my 1st year of university version, I know I’d have scoffed at the ridiculous notion of the elephant hickey that was so glaringly sitting in my sights at this moment.

“This is surely a worthy addition to the medical journals” was the first thing to pop into my head, but that would not help my stricken-faced friend, so I gathered my wits, found a pharmacy, mimed my way through a conversation, and successfully obtained a bruise healing balm. Crisis averted and step two, completed.