Falling Down

and getting back up, again

It’s hard to say what happened, it happened so fast. One minute I had hold of River’s leash, as Bruce and I and the two dogs were heading out for a walk. The next minute, I was laying in the road dazed and in pain. I believe I might have howled. I’m very glad I can’t remember that part.

Bruce tugged on my arm, trying to get me to stand up. I think he might have been saying “You’re laying in the middle of the road, you’ve got to get up.” My brain was focused on the pain, it wasn’t exactly thinking. I’m not sure I could think of anything but how much everything hurt.

I didn’t realize I was bleeding until we got into the house and I pulled my hand away from my face and realized that it wasn’t my hand obscuring my vision. When my hand came away, it was all red. It felt like a river was running down my face.

“I’m bleeding,” I said.

I think Bruce’s exact words might have been “Yeah!” followed by an unspoken “Duh!”

Bruce got me into a chair and went to get a cloth to clean me up. I was just rocking back and forth and I hate to admit doing something that was a cross between whimpering and crying.

I might have even said something really intelligent like “it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.”

Bruce came back with a wet cloth. “Hold that,” he said, placing my hand holding the cloth over my eye. He unhooked the dogs and went back out to the road to pick up my glasses, sun glasses before a car came and ran them over.

While Bruce was gone, River decided to take over the nursing duties. Hewas being very solicitous wanting to clean up the blood for me. I vaguely wondered if giving him a taste for my blood was a good idea.

Bruce came back with my glasses and sunglasses, which were so mangled I was never going to get them on again.

“The road looks like a crime scene,” he said.

I looked a mess for a few days, but now, according to a friend, I can go out without frightening children. The extent of the bleeding didn’t really occur to me till yesterday, when I grabbed the raincoat I’d been wearing to go outside and sit with the dogs. It had rained overnight, and the chairs were damp, so I put down the coat to sit on. River started licking the arms.

“What’s so good?” I asked, pulling the sleeve toward me to take a look. It was covered in blood. Big splashes of red painted the front and both sleeves. River was all for cleaning it up for me.

I am trying not to feel old, because I can blame falling on the dogs. I can blame everything on the dogs. Falling down, having a dirty house, not getting any writing done. The problem is, that was the second time I fell last week. Of course, the first time involved sheep. There’s always an animal involved, as a friend pointed out.

Such innocents