accidents · aging · crutches · humor · memories · musings · skiing · weather · winter

Crutches Aren’t For Everyone.

Friends were recently talking about their eagerness for winter so they could go skiing, hitting the slopes with fresh snow and plowing through virgin powder.

I just shuddered.

You see, my last experience on the slopes was memorable—unpleasant, but memorable.

It was Christmas Eve, my first trip down the mountain, feeling invincible with fresh snow under my skis.

Suddenly, I was down, on my back, my leg at an odd angle, people whizzing by my inert body. My groans (maybe they were screams) must have caught someone’s attention because shortly I was being carried down the mountain in a sling type contraption.

Sure enough, I had a broken leg and spent Christmas Day in the hospital feeling very sorry for myself.broken leg Several days later I flew home supporting myself on crutches. It was cold and icy when I arrived, and not being adept at crutch walking, I slipped and fell. Another trip to the hospital, this time with a broken arm.

Obviously certain functions were difficult for me, and washing my hair was one of those trials. Off to the beauty shop I went. The woman scrubbing my head must have had a bad night, because in her attempt to get my hair clean, she stuck a finger in my eye. eyepatch

By this time, the doctors and I were becoming really good friends. They bandaged my eye, suggested that I might lose sight in that eye, and sent me reeling off in a wheel chair, a cast on one leg, a cast on one arm, and a bandage over one eye.

I looked like an accident victim, but wait! I was an accident victim! People look at you with a strange glance when they see someone wrapped in gauze coming toward them. They move out of your way, afraid that whatever happened to you might be contagious. Hey, they may be correct. I certainly wouldn’t want to be standing next to me if a truck came barreling down the street in my direction. With my luck I would be preprogrammed into its GPS and everything near me would be wiped out. Not a pretty picture.

It’s taken me 70+ years to realize that physical activities may not be my forte. Usually I can walk without falling down (if the path is clear of rocks and debris). And at one time I ran 6 miles a day, slowly but steadily. But it is clear that tackling a mountain on skis isn’t my idea of fun.

I am looking forward to winter though. Who doesn’t enjoy a warm fire, hot chocolate, a cozy blanket, a doglet on your lap, and no crutches in sight.

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