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There’s a large log that juts out of the ceiling and hangs over my bed. I’m short, so most times it really isn’t a problem. This morning though I woke up drowsy, had to pee, and stood up far to quickly. I smacked my face into the hard wood, which resulted in me biting down onto my tongue and passing out near the bed. When I came to there was dark, red, blood all over my shirt, sheets, and I had a throbbing head ache. I stumbled down to the bathroom, finally relieved myself and looked in the mirror. I had a bruise the size of a cherry and half of my face was swallow. That’s when I started panicking.

You see I’m used to medical problems, god my life is one, but I’m not used to having them when I’m living a lone in a foreign country.

I realized this morning that I’m mortal and that life can end very quickly. What if I had actually gotten a concussion? What if I had passed out, not onto the mattress, but down the stairs, I live in a loft. It was scary and it taught me never ever jump out of bed. Take a moment and just simply bask in the fact that you woke up to another morning, that’s how you avoid slamming your head into logs.