It was time for us to go back to the car and for Mike to get his shoes and socks back on. The 9-year old that lives within him had asked kindly to go barefoot in the water and of course Mike said "yes". So while Mike sat down to do that, I started back towards our car parked only a few hundred yards away. The roads up there are a little on the skinny side and I noticed a vehicle slowly inching its way towards where I was walking. I figured to just step off onto the side a bit and let them safely pass by. But as I did so, I found that what appeared to be solid ground was really not that solid at all. It just took one step in the gravel and down I went onto my left side. For the record, I did it as gracefully as a nearly 59-year old flatlander could.
You know how it is sometimes when you fall and the first thing that enters your mind is something like~
"Holy cow! I sure hope nobody saw me do THAT!"
I fell right next to the passenger door of the car that was going slowly by. They couldn't help but to see it and as I quickly got myself up off the ground I heard one of the people in the back seat ask if I was all right. Assuring them that I was fine, just a little embarrassed of course, but fine nonetheless. Mike missed the entire moment, thank goodness, and when he got back to the car I told him what I'd done. I have to be more careful when I'm doing things like that. I know better but geesch, at the time it seemed like the right thing to do.
It was strange but as I fell onto my left side, I immediately put my left hand down to stop my fall. The same hand, arm, and wrist that I smashed to smithereens exactly 3 years ago tomorrow. When I felt the palm of my hand hit the ground as it tried to break my landing a bit, I got a sinking and "uh-oh" kind of feeling. "Old lefty" has been through a lot, too much in its time and for a split second I wondered if I had done any damage to it. But thankfully I had not and I think that all the "Red Green" hardware that has been placed within it alongside the transplanted bone tissue from Darryl may well have turned my arm somewhat bionic. I'd rather not test that out to be sure though. This morning when I woke up, I could definitely feel that my left leg on the outside will be sore for a couple of days to come yet. There is the beginning of a beautiful blue and purplish bruise that will be a reminder to me that I should walk with more care. Always.
Ok, Ok. I promise to try!
The other evening on the evening news from Denver, there was a segment on donor awareness that showed several recipients of organ and tissue transplants. There was a woman who had been a recipient of a kidney, harvested from a cadaver's body a few years back. She spoke of how grateful she was and how she desperately wished that she could find the donor's family to thank them in person for the gift that had come from their daughter. Could I ever identify with what she was feeling! The woman said something that stuck with me and I'm getting a shiver down my spine as I think of the words that she said.
"I received an opportunity to have a normal life once again. I'm beholden to the person whose life was given and it's my responsibility now to take good care of the gift that she gave me."
That's how I feel about the bone material that was given to save my hand and wrist. A good man named Darryl gave it to me when he died and because of that I now can continue to have a pretty much workable hand and wrist. I have to be careful with it because I dang sure don't want to go through that again. I'm sure that I will have "spills" in the years to come but hopefully everything that the good Dr. Chan put into it during surgery that August morning will stay put where it belongs. Yesterday was only a misstep, a reminder if you will that it's much better to be careful and to take things slow and easy. Especially when you are at 10,000 feet.
I'm heading over to school this morning and spending the day there getting things ready for the upcoming school year. I didn't sleep all that well last night and I'm sure that it was because I knew that I'd be readying the classroom for "the 19" who are soon to arrive. 3 years ago, when I was the Title I reading/math teacher back at Lincoln Elementary in Hutchinson, I had to start the school year in one of the longest and heaviest casts that was ever invented. The severe injuries that I received that morning as I flew off of my bike and hit the pavement would necessitate my arm being essentially "broken" for the next 8 months. I'm really glad that this morning when I walk into the doorways of a great school called Olathe Elementary that my left arm will be barren of a cast. You know what? I think I'd like to keep it that way :)
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