Can’t Walk & Think at the Same Time
I would like to say that I move gracefully and elegantly, but really I’m a clutz. You’ve all heard of those who can’t walk and chew gum at the same time. Well, I think I’m worse: I can’t walk and do anything at the same time.
Despite the wonderful beach weather yesterday, I decided to be responsible and get some work done. But beforehand, I thought I’d go for brunch at a neighbourhood dinner. And after that, I decided to go to a park at the north end of the Halifax peninsula to take in a bit of sun before heading to the salt mine.
The path leading to said park is paved, blocked to traffic, and runs directly under the Mackay bridge that spans the harbour, plus it’s on a rather steep downward incline. The pavement is broken up in parts and I think I was looking at surreal view of being on the underside of the bridge rather than where I was walking. So the next thing I know, I feel my left foot tripping, then completely losing my footing, and finally flying downwards. It all seemed to be in slow motion and very fast at the same time.
The minutes immediately following the fall are a bit of a blur. I know I fell on my right side, but the first thing I remember is being on my back and just staying there, not rushing to try to get up. I was sweating profusely. Being completely alone, I didn’t feel compelled to rush to get back on my feet; instead, I checked to see if I had any bones protruding from my skin and if I could move my fingers, my arm… And being on a steep incline, I was trying to figure out how the hell I would get back on my feet. I could feel that my left ankle was sore and unstable but my upper right side was also very sore. So how to get up?
Somehow I managed and walked over to a railing on the side of the path. And that’s when I thought for sure I would either throw up or faint …or both. Everything was spinning. It was very hot and hazy, so naturally everything in the distance looked fuzzy. But it looked even brighter and fuzzier as it all spun. I could feel myself shaking, and I had two questions running through my mind at this point since I was pretty sure I hadn’t broken anything: how do I get back to my car (and am I in any condition to drive to few blocks back home), and has this fall effectively cancelled my trip to Montréal next weekend?
I eventually made it to my car, where I sat for a good while and blasted the air conditioning. And then I drove home. Once home, I immediately stripped off — taking the Tshirt off was painful — to give myself a closer inspection; what was remarkable is how the pain was intense despite only having a few superficial scrapings. Then I sat on the couch for a while, where I realized I was still in a bit of a state of shock, and wondered if I should get checked out at emergency. I avoid doctors like the plague, but then I remembered how we all told off my mother last year when she hadn’t gone to emergency after a similar fall. Sure, she’s older and more fragile, but I realized I now had to practice what I preached, plus I didn’t want to worsen something I couldn’t see.
Anyway, long story short, once I felt sufficently steady on my feet, I decided to go to the emergency but via BeeGoddessM and Stephanie to seek their advice on whether or not I was overreacting. BeeGoddessM made the excellent suggestion that I simply go to a walk-in clinic, where it could be determined if my “case” needed to be escalated. And after a thorough assessment, the handsome doctor at the clinic declared he was pretty sure nothing was broken and mine were soft-tissue injuries that could be relieved with icing, rest, and Advil. He also gave me a tetanos shot, which I hadn’t had in decades (if ever).
Moving around in bed was a little tough last night. And when I got up at 4:30 to take a leak, I felt my left ankle not strong enough to support me …but eventually it did. I limped over to the Advil and had another session of icing before returning to bed. This time I slept better. And when I got up, the ankle was definitely very sore but nothing like it was when I had gotten up earlier.
I have to admit this fall has given me a bit of a scare. And BeeGoddessM was right when she said, “Boys, I’d hate to see you when you’re old!” The combination of how I’ve been very lucky all my life as far as hurting myself, and the memory of how my father would turn into a wimp at the slightest cold, gives credence to her statement.
That said, every limpy step I take around the apartment today, I keep saying to myself, “You’ll be okay for the weekend … You won’t be all gimpy when you see El Poema … You are *SO* going to mend by the weekend …”