Absorbing.

More than I thought.

Getting dressed this Sunday morning, I noticed odd bruising. Strange little bluish green circles dotted the inner portion of my arms. I wondered what on earth could have been done to me so symmetrically? And without my knowledge?

Riding the Piccadilly line from Heathrow airport, for eleven Tube stops I pondered the marking mystery.

Then all was revealed.

The army flack jacket I wore inside the Gaza region was ridiculously heavy. The helmet was too. But it was the weighty ceramic chest and back plate that in theory kept bullets from ripping through to flesh.

As I stood hearing unimaginable horrors from Kibbituz Be’eri, I felt it pressing down on my shoulders. I had folded my arms tightly up under the bottom edge of the green protective vest - allowing my arms to bear the burden for a while. It alleviated the pressure. But that alone should not have caused the bruising.

My guess is that when nearby mortar rounds went off only blocks away, with a massive canon like ‘boom,’ I must have gripped my own arms too harshly went I jerked. Three fingertips on both hands pushed hard into my forearms. Bruising myself, I had attempted to brace myself against what felt like a supersonic noise. It was an automatic response.

My body, 4 days later still possessed a physical reminder of where it had been.