Slipped on the stairs and fell the other day. Hard. The worst part was the instant contemplation of skipping down the remaining 40 or so steps after the first three or four. I was at the top. When I gathered my single wit together, that bit of awareness told me I was rapidly gathering speed and headed south. Yikes! I could see launching myself into the sea! So, I grabbed a vertical post to limit any further descent and slumped in a heap to a stop.
I may be getting a little old for this…?
I get hurt all the time. This should not have been any different. But it was. It was different because I was being careful this time. I was even holding on to the rail. I knew it was slippery. I was being cautious. OK, maybe slippers were the wrong choice of footwear but, being aware is 99% of the issue as a rule. Not this time. I was down in a blink and moving like Eddie the eagle.
I tend to disregard all that trauma, blood, pain and suffering not because I am heroic or brave but simply because 1. it happens now before I even know it is happening. The accident is really fast! My reaction time is really slow. Ergo, it is all a complete surprise and therefore I may as well not worry about it anymore. If I die, I am likely to be the last to know.
2. Sally always says, “Oh, Gawd! Just get over it!” You could have an arrow sticking through both ears and Sal would say, “Well, just pull it out and get on with it!” She’s a lovely person but has the pain threshold of a boulder. She simply cannot empathize.
3. Sal says no one wants to hear about it anyway. The book had just two incidents of trauma to illustrate the physical challenges. We had a dozen from which to choose. “Save ’em. You may want to write another book!”
The reality is that I have been a smidge in denial about OTG and safety. I tend to think that one can be run over by a bus in the city and the country just has different threats so why dwell on them. And that is still largely true for me but I reluctantly admit that living on terrain that is generally comprised of sloping rocks angling between ten and thirty degrees is a bit more of a daily challenge than the slow amble in the foyer, mall or the plastic seat on skytrain (unless you occasionally walk the middle rail as some do).
Yes. Traffic in the city is more dangerous. No question. So, you see my point. Danger everywhere. As Alfred E. Neuman said, “What, me worry?”
As for the latest bump, it is a large bruise down my left side. Except for bending, I am almost fine. Bending seems to ‘crunch’ the bruises and that inhibits too much gamboling and frolicking about but Sal and I went about our business today (after three days of healing) and we brought 18 pieces of lumber up the highline from the beach. We had to. More is coming.
Before we could do that, I had to start the old Honda winch. It wouldn’t go so I took it to the workbench and stripped it, cleaned it and generally fussed over it. It then started. Probably only took 60 or 70 pulls. 20 Advil. But carrying it and pulling the cord was getting painful so Sal took it back. In the wheelbarrow. She affixed it in place. Then she popped down to the beach to load the lumber and I hauled it up.
Then, we took the engine apart again and stored in the dry room.
A day in the life…..