Shortly thereafter, I took a fall. Saying that the mighty had fallen has a nice whiff of megalomania to it. Gratefully, I still have traces of modesty restraining me.
I did take a fall. A nasty fall. The planets Clumsy, Klutzy, and Stupid were in perfect alignment one frigid Sunday night. I went down fast and hard like a sack of stones. Front walk, two feet from the door, nice glassy patch of rock hard ice, that's when molecular physics denied my feet an ounce of traction. The wrong shoes at the right time, or maybe the right shoes at the wrong time.
The short and worst of it was a fractured ankle. The long and not-so-much fun of the rest of the damage was made up of bruises, sprains, assorted welts, and even a few minor cuts. The ankle did me in.
For fi
ve never-ending weeks I was a shut-in, and not in the figurative sense. I was housebound, unable to get in or out of the house without the assistance of a couple able-bodied people, like EMTs, who lugged me around no fewer than three times early on in my convalescence.A few weeks into the healing ordeal there were complications which took me back to the hospital, where this time around I was admitted. With that over and done, it was back home to get better.
So time all but stood still as I sat home and watched the world go by. I suppose the biggest change was winter's final, slow, fitful, and grudging surrender to spring. It was a painful process, not unlike me stumbling around on a walker, or thumping into furniture, doorways, and the corners of counters with my wheelchair.
Little things came to mean a lot. I need to remember that.
I will.
