Pencil in Hand # 2

One phenomena of human nature that continues to perplex me : Why is it that we feel embarrassment first and pain second when we fall or take a tumble in public places?

Perhaps it is just me but whenever I slip on some ice or trip on a bizarrely sized sidewalk, I always try and pretend like it did not actually happen. Rather, my first reaction will be one of sheer embarrassment. As if I was truly ashamed of my unfortunate mis-step. It might be that falling or tripping just isn't that cool. It essentially reduces one to a clownish state, a spectacle of sorts for others to laugh at. More importantly; however, is the fact that in most cases this sudden rush of embarrassment supersedes the feeling of pain. I realize that if one was to fall and fracture their femur in 2 different places of slip and crack their tailbone, the pain would conquer all other states and reign supreme. Nevertheless, these extreme cases are not the one's that I am interested in. My chief focus resides in the everyday human stumbles that result in little to somewhat bearable pain. Unless you are talking about egos, obviously.

Take this as a prime example : Yesterday in a safe attempt to avoid a puddle of brown slush I decided to jump over it only to land directly on some patch of black ice. Consequently, I ended up falling and banging my knee on some hard winter concrete. My initial reaction was not to verify if my knee was alright. Instead, I impulsively jumped back onto my feet and hurried away from the scene and into my friend's awaiting car. Once in the car, I lifted my jeans above the injured knee and discovered that I was hurt. Yet, at the time of impact I had felt no pain, only foolish embarrassment. I now wear a brace on my left knee when I play basket-ball.