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Blink of an Eye

 

A couple of weeks ago, I took a spill on my bicycle. I came to a steep hill.  “Should I walk my bike down or ride down?”  My inner voice said, “Walk down.  You might fall.”  But I did not listen.  “I can do it.  It will be fun.”  The old push and pull of what you should do vs. what you want to do.  Down the hill I went.  I got scared and put on the brakes.  Then ker-plunk and there I was lying on the cold, hard ground in excruciating pain.  First came denial.  “No, this can’t be happening.  I was almost home, ready to watch the Super Bowl.  I was just out for a quick ride on a sunny afternoon.  This is all a mistake.”  Helpful bystanders ran to my rescue offering help and water and support.  Then came the fire department, and the paramedics, who loaded me on to a stretcher and whisked me off to the emergency room.  A set of x-rays and a shot of morphine later and a nurse walked in and pronounced, “Your arm is broken.  You will need surgery.”  No more denial now.  This was really happening.  Through this whole ordeal I found myself playing the scenario of the fall over and over in my mind, as if I did it enough times, the event would come to a different conclusion---a conclusion in which I came down the hill on my bike, put on the brakes, and skidded to a stop, unharmed but shaken.  Then I got back on my bike and rode home without incident.  Wishful thinking is great, but does not always work.  After denial, came anger, at myself.  “What an idiot!  Why did you do that?  You know better than to ride down that hill.”  Now, two weeks later, I am in the resigned stage. I am where I am.  And I am thankful for the little things in life, like being able to take a shower or walk around the block in the cool evening air.  Ah!  After all, isn’t it grand to be alive.

 

 

A couple of weeks ago, I took a spill on my bicycle. I came to a steep hill.  “Should I walk my bike down or ride down?”  My inner voice said, “Walk down.  You might fall.”  But I did not listen.  “I can do it.  It will be fun.”  The old push and pull of what you should do vs. what you want to do.  Down the hill I went.  I got scared and put on the brakes.  Then ker-plunk and there I was lying on the cold, hard ground in excruciating pain.  First came denial.  “No, this can’t be happening.  I was almost home, ready to watch the Super Bowl.  I was just out for a quick ride on a sunny afternoon.  This is all a mistake.”  Helpful bystanders ran to my rescue offering help and water and support.  Then came the fire department, and the paramedics, who loaded me on to a stretcher and whisked me off to the emergency room.  A set of x-rays and a shot of morphine later and a nurse walked in and pronounced, “Your arm is broken.  You will need surgery.”  No more denial now.  This was really happening.  Through this whole ordeal I found myself playing the scenario of the fall over and over in my mind, as if I did it enough times, the event would come to a different conclusion---a conclusion in which I came down the hill on my bike, put on the brakes, and skidded to a stop, unharmed but shaken.  Then I got back on my bike and rode home without incident.  Wishful thinking is great, but does not always work.  After denial, came anger, at myself.  “What an idiot!  Why did you do that?  You know better than to ride down that hill.”  Now, two weeks later, I am in the resigned stage. I am where I am.  And I am thankful for the little things in life, like being able to take a shower or walk around the block in the cool evening air.  Ah!  After all, isn’t it grand to be alive.

 

 

Comments
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Oh no~ so sorry to hear about

Oh no~ so sorry to hear about your fall.  I hate that voice inside of us that pushes and pulls us... it's like a test and depending on the choice we make, it's all up to us.  should have, could have, would have....

Thank god for acceptance and resignation.  Hope your recovery is moving ahead smoothly.  Lots to be thankful for!

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Thanks, Rina, for the good

Thanks, Rina, for the good wishes.  I am recovering slowly but smoothly.  Thanks again.

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Oh, Patricia – the number of

Oh, Patricia – the number of times my brain ignored my inner voice and I regretted it! One ends up learning the lesson the hard way.

So sorry you broke your arm.  I hope the pain is bearable and that it heals soon.

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Thanks, Katherine.  Yes. I

Thanks, Katherine.  Yes. I learned a valuable lesson the hard way.  You would think I would have learned this lesson long ago!  Recovery is going well.  I'll be good as new soon.  Thanks for the support.