The body is perhaps the most brilliant thing about being mortal.
Composed as it is of infinitely complex systems, veins, muscles, joints, bloodstreams, nerves, corpuscles, sensory pathways, mysterious processes unfathomed for centuries, it’s a wonder we just don’t sprout wings and fly! But that gift was reserved for birds, not mere humans….however….speaking of flying:
We were beginning the move from our large Page Street Victorian to a smaller luxury high rise rental on the Embarcadero, and to say that I was a frantic nervous wreck is an understatement….i was bursting at the seams with the absolute certainty that it was an impossible move…so I was running around in a 100% daily frenzy, incensed that Peter simply wasn’t as worried as I was, and my worry fueled that rage, fueling even further my endless scurrying to get stuff done!
So I scurried and scurried and huffed and puffed and tried to do stuff I felt needed doing, needless nonsense that made sense to no one but me, and so I gathered a load of trash, huge and unwieldy , again fueled by my anger that Peter had the temerity to work hard at his home office earning a living for us both instead of helping me dispose of trash,et al.and my body was tense, achey , a bundle of raw angry nerves, and in a sad state far from sane, as I schlepped , with arms full, down our front steps en route to our garbage bins in the garage.
An errant something or other from a nearby tree fell into my path and I turned my ankle stepping on it, flying headlong flat against my arms and face onto the hardest of all possible concrete driveways, sliding onto the even less hospitable granite garage floor.
Even as I fell, slow motion like a film strip delayed, I thought “……this cannot be happening! Is this really happening?….” And I was answered by the crack of one arm, one ankle and one concrete slap on my cheek…..ouch.
I couldn’t move, I was so stunned.
And I certainly could not get up off the ground…so, knowing Peters office was right above me, I yelled for him to come out and help me…..I’ve failed to mention he was full of Covid on that fateful day, so…well…a perfect little storm….but he came running, helped me to our front stoop and called 911….i somehow was laughing with disbelief…Peter, not so much…and soon the EMS guys were there and they were great.
I was treated beautifully, taken to a Sutter Emergency facility and treated immediately and thoroughly….slight ankle fracture, complex broken left wrist, and a stunned ego….i needed to slow down, said the Universe, and…well. ….it helped me do that very thing….it showed me! An operation to put my wrist back together….a boot on my right hairline fracture…and a strict corset on my raging impatience….Peter got over his COVID thing, and handled the move all by himself and as usual handled it all perfectly! I have never trusted him more…and continue to do so , as I slowly step,with pleasurable ease through life since that day…the day of The Driveway Lesson.