Not So Fast

A funny thing happened on my way to the flooring store the other day. I tripped and fell. One minute I was strolling along the sidewalk, and the next, down on my hands and knees. Oof. That hurt. But no big deal, I told myself. Just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving. No harm done. Ha! Not so fast, as it turned out. Nothing like slipping on the proverbial banana peel to remind you you’re not a kid anymore. By the time I returned home from running my errand, my injured knee had swollen to the size of a small cantaloupe.

The swelling hadn’t gone by the next day, so it was off to my favorite place to spend a Saturday, Urgent Care. Not. After a two-hour wait, I finally got in to see a doctor. Luckily, X-rays revealed nothing was broken, so at least I was spared a cast and crutches. Small blessings, right? Also, in the blessings department, a man who noticed I was practically in tears trying to feed the parking meter outside Urgent Care that didn’t seem to be working gave me his parking space and paid for my parking. Proving once again there are angels among us.

Flash forward to two weeks later…My left knee is still a little swollen and tender. Shouldn’t it be all better by now? When did my formerly reliable made-in-the-USA body parts get replaced by the cheaply manufactured overseas variety? Where did the spring in my step go? What happened to the “get” in my get-go? These days there’s no springing or getting anywhere so fast, although I’m in great shape for my age. I eat right and exercise. I go on daily walks, sometimes for miles. But accidents happen and injuries occur, and when you’re older recovery can be slow. When I’m in a rush to get somewhere, I need to remind myself, “Slow down. Not so fast.” Because getting somewhere on time is never more important than getting there in one piece. And nothing slows you down like an injury from an accident caused by undue haste.

Tomorrow with any luck I’ll get back to my daily yoga practice, which has fallen by the wayside these past couple of weeks. I’m feeling it in the stiffness of my joints. Hoping I won’t be sidelined again by any twinges in my knee like I was when I made the mistake of getting back in the saddle too soon. Foiled again by my impatience!

The good news is my injury didn’t affect my ability to write. In fact, sitting down was the best position for me to be in while I was recovering. So when one hand taketh, the other hand giveth. In this case, it was both hands applied to my keyboard. As long as I can write, there’s life, right? And unlike with walking or running there’s no risk involved in writing. The only danger is that of accidentally falling into a plot hole.