Why I won't fall again
Being careful
People often tell me now, “Be careful on that bike!” That’s easy. I no longer have a bike. I apparently never blogged about the evening of The Fall.
Al came to get me and the bike where I was sitting on someone’s stoop with my cell. He had arranged a car service to take us to NY Methodist Hospital. I had had doctor appointments and x-rays there for years so I was in their system. We took the bike home first and got to the emergency room about 4:00 pm. Very few people were there. I was given a pain killer, X-rayed, and soon, Isa arrived.
The PA who took care of us showed us the x-rays and called the bone surgeon on duty who instructed me to call back on Monday and make an appointment. MONDAY! This was Thursday afternoon. Olivia had had the same problem last October: broken arm, no operating rooms available and surgery necessary.
We three left the hospital and went home to wait for David to arrive. Isa got a scissors to cut me out of my new pink t-shirt and I found a billowy blouse that covered me without my having to put The Arm thru a sleeve.
David called several times from the road and when he arrived in Brooklyn, he went shopping for the food we still needed for dinner. Isa and Al started cooking, Tom and the girls arrived, and we all went to the terrace to eat Bah Mi and corn on the cob. I was very happy. The pain killers? Maybe. Or maybe it was just that I could sit and watch everyone talk and laugh. Family time. And the food was great. Weather perfect.
When it was time for the Cucinottas to leave, they took the bike with them [Are you sure you . . . ? YES YES YES, I’m done biking!] And I sent the helmet, which didn’t get bumped in the fall along, too. So it’s gone. Done.
And as soon as I go into the storage, I’ll get out my nearly new ice skates and they can go live with the Cucinottas, too. I think they are Coco’s size.
I watch other people bike down the street and feel a little sad. I worry when they don’t have a helmet on. I worry when I see cars coming up fast behind them. In my Occupation Therapy room, there are four of us who had bike accidents. But there are thousands on the street who ride safely. I’m jealous, but not enough to get back on a bike. Or a horse.
Olivia has the metal out of her arm now. I can't wait to be rid of mine. Four more months.
Posted
by Dorothy Lawrence
