I know — I was supposed to be ‘getting back to normal’ after my brother’s death . And I had begun to scribble again, without being quite ready for prime time blogging. Then…
Friday July 24 was a lovely evening, and after dinner I walked to the Chocolateria –where both chocolates and ice cream are made on the premises, by neighbours. (In my case it’s almost always the ‘Burnt Caramel’ ice cream cone – though I suppose I really should change to something less threatening to a pre-diabetic 74-year-old!)
Strolling home, totally focused on my luscious ice cream cone, I didn’t notice the sidewalk repair that was about to change my summer. I tripped and flew forward on my ice-cream-cone hand, breaking three knuckles – including my index finger, which was also dislocated.
It’s five weeks later, and what a learning experience it has been! I even learned how to use Dictation – a Mac voice-recognition software that is amazing. But I also learned that my spoken style is quite different from my writing ‘voice’. So – useful, but not a panacea.
Unable to type for the first four weeks I was reminded of how powerlessness and loss of control can provoke depression – something that plagued me for decades. As my typing fingers become stronger (in great leaps this past week), my mood has lightened, and optimism returned. My writing sessions have quadrupled!
Last but not least, there’s nothing like this kind of event to remind us of things we’re grateful for: that “this too shall pass”; a husband who can cook; wonderful family, friends and neighbours; and a good dependable healthcare system that has simply been there for me, from the first shocking evening, through doctor-follow-ups and physiotherapy – with never a dollar mentioned.
Note to self: Work towards ensuring such care exists for everyone – everywhere.