Falling Down

This is a shot of the intersection of Main Street and Church Street in Mathews Court House. That tannish/yellowish building on the right is the doctor's office referenced below by Chesapeake Bay Mother, who has written yet another tale.

Chesapeake Bay Mother says:

" Don't give a person teetering on the brink of senility too much to do in one day, or they will prove themselves faulty.

A case in point: Wednesday, the week after returning from Exhausting OBX (Outer Banks) Vacation, I had two appointments and was on possible standby for baby sitting. I like plenty of nothing, and nothing is plenty for me, to paraphrase a really good Broadway tune.

The first was a doctor's 8:45 a.m. physical, and I evidently passed. Leaving and crossing the street in front of the doctor's office, I found Mathews' only pothole, which was small enough to escape notice but deep enough to hide a small goat. Before I knew what was happening, my whole body was rushing to the ground--head first in the middle of Church Street. Everything in my purse was scattering in the road--pills, glasses, keys, etc.

A bus loaded with senior citizens and driven by a gray-haired gentleman was bearing down on the scene and me, with feet still in the air, seeming to have the hang time of a Michael Jordan jump shot. I fought gravity, hurried to my feet, grabbed my possessions, waved to the bus, smiled and mouthed, "I"m OK," in answer to the bus driver's obvious question. I'll never forget the look of wonder on his face as I thanked God I had worn pants that day. "Shake it off, Chesapeake Bay Mother," I said to myself.

Back home, I frost a birthday cake I baked for teenage grandson, and head out to dentist for an estimate on teeth, which broke apart on exhausting vacation. I am delighted to find out I need a filling and a cap, all of which will have to be paid out of my savings because insurance doesn't cover it. It will be more expensive than anything I've bought for myself in many moons.

I buy grandson a card and come home to make ice cream for his dinner party. By party time, I realize my left foot has somehow paid a price for the morning's tumble. I limp to the party. Chesapeake Bay Woman says it is fear hormone * that dulls pain on impact only to reappear later. Fear it was.

On the bright side, I fell in a fortuitous area--right outside the doctor's office, just up from a local church, and around the corner from the funeral parlor.

Find me a better spot to be flattened like a flounder under the wheels of a busload of seniors on a Wal-Mart quest.** I dare ya.

(CBW Note that cannot wait to be footnoted with a *: That "I dare ya" was added by CBW. I felt it needed to go there. I'm not trying to high jack this post or anything. I don't feel compelled to add my two cents' worth all the time. And I do not have control issues. Really. Now back to my mother's last sentence.)

Chesapeake Bay Grandson is an angel. It's been a full day.


-Chesapeake Bay Mother---------------------------------

*CBW Note: I don't recollect calling it a fear hormone. I said that when you have an accident, your body sends stuff, like adrenaline and other junk, coursing through your veins so that you can handle the situation. "Other junk" is a technical term and "fear hormone" is just not quite the correct terminology. Because I'm nothing if not factual, exact and correct with my details.

**CBW Note #2: This is a "note to self" to contact the driver of that senior citizen bus and get their number so I can arrange to have them take Chesapeake Bay Mother to her next doctor's appointment. Maybe then we can avoid Death by Pothole Big Enough to Hide a Small Goat. And perhaps a little embarrassment.