Defining Moments
Life is filled with defining moments common to most of us – birth, graduation, and marriage. A few of us, experience even more stratospheric occurrences: Pulitzers, summiting on K-2, tracing the human genome. And then, there are folks like yours truly, for whom these defining moments are decidedly more “down to earth.”This is a terra firma story, if ever there was one.
Tuesday, January 13, began much as any other “guilt driven day” in my life when I realized that ohmygosh it had been over a month since I had taken Barley, our not quite 2 year old golden retriever to the beach for swim and a stick toss. Our house sits about ninety feet up from the beach which we access via a series of stairs and switch back trails. The sun was up and the tide was out and our morning errands to town were behind us. Mr. Fun had left a phone message en route to Belize for diving with friends. Kate had promised to call that afternoon – an event that rivals an audience with the Pope.
When Barley and I got down to the bulkhead, we discovered that the last section of stairs from the top of the bulkhead to the beach was missing, a distance of about four feet. Barley easily resolved this by leaping to the beach but I opted for a more cautious approach –sliding backwards down over the logs, confident I would find footing on the second log. Well, I didn’t! Logs that hang out in water are slicker than snot in the winter and I hit the ground like the proverbial ton of bricks.
The sand I landed on was not the stuff that destination weddings or sand castles are made of; this was the bag of cement left out in the rain variety. I spent a fair amount of time in that crumpled position wiggling my toes and considering my options. They were neither many nor great. At this point in the story, you probably expect me to tell you that Barley came over, licked me in the face and then ran off to find help, ala Lassie of “Timmy’s in the well” fame. In truth he was growing more impatient with me by the minute, bringing the stick ever closer to my throwing arm. He had come to play so what on earth was I waiting for? What indeed? I pulled myself up and threw the stick which made us both feel better – I think. Though I couldn’t put any weight on my left leg, eventually I could stay upright without feeling faint. At this point, with the tide coming in and Barley satisfied that our time had not been wasted, we began the trek up the stairs.
The most frequently asked question as I tell this story is how I managed to do just that, given the nature of my injury and the number of stairs. I really don’t know – though I credit ignorance, shock, and luck for my success. When I got to the house, I did the things that any reasonable person might do - swept the floor, built a fire, filled a bag with ice and called a friend. Actually, I called a couple of friends and after debating the pros and cons of doing nothing or doing something, doing something won and 911 was called. I was moving in this direction myself when I realized that I couldn’t get from the family room into the kitchen to put the kettle on for a cup of tea – life without tea is just not worth contemplating.
On the 14th, I had surgery to replace the ball which had broken off of my femur and was free floating in my hip. Kate was there with me for the surgery and Fred made it back from Belize in time to stop by the hospital around midnight for a visit. The two of them organized the house for my homecoming and Kate put together a spread sheet for “Mary Care”, then they went out to dinner to commiserate on their lot and what in the world they were going to do with the “old lady.” Truly the scariest moment for me was when the surgeon told me prior to surgery that I should anticipate 4 – 6 days in the hospital followed by a week in a rehab facility! Yikes – fortunately, for everyone that wasn’t necessary and I came home on Saturday January 17th. I sleep on a “pea princess” bed in the computer room (two mattresses to give it height) walk every day, sometimes with a cane if I can find it. I have physical therapy twice a week and drive myself to my appointments. My pain, which in the ER was a 15 on a scale of 1 – 10, is now minimal.
People are fond of telling me that “this is what happens when you get to be my age” – but I am not buying that. Don’t you believe it either. Maybe thirty years from now, but not today! It was a freak accident and I continue to lead a charmed life and celebrate my great bones.
We have been told that it takes a village to raise a child. When Kate and Micaiah got married, I realized that it took a village and then some to run off a wedding. I can now affirm that when you fall on your fanny, only a village of extraordinary family and friends can bail you out!
I am counting my blessings and you are among them!
Mary
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I had so wanted to hear the story again, as the draft version came into my ears the first time I met you. I was hardly prepared then to try to attach this event to this very delightful person sitting across the tables from me. I certainly wince as I contemplate the scenario a year later.
ReplyDeleteYahoooooo to the resumption of skiing and the good news/bad news (?)
Hey wannadanc - I thought that you were on at cruise about now? I suppose that you can be sitting on a deck chair and using your computer, all at the same time. Well, where ever you are right now, thanks for your comments. And by the way, try to stay upright. The alternative isn't as much fun as it is cracked up to be!
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