|photo courtesy of Bing.com; sky courtesy of God|
Yesterday I found myself lying by the pool under a cerulean sky. The sun had not reached its apogee, and the air still had that early morning feel. The concrete’s warmth seeped into me slowly, toasting all the parts of my body that ached. Soon the sun would creep over the roof of our house, and I would spend the rest of the day doing—doing what, I wondered.
|Not my pool...someone else has it.|
‘What the hell just happened!!’
I do not swear, even under the most extreme circumstances, and then only when I am alone. At that moment, I was in too much agony to summon up more than some sincere moans.
Accidents usually happen quickly, like the strike of a rattlesnake. This one was a true slow sprawl, but one that I could not veer away from or avoid.
The events leading up to this were so uninteresting: the pool needed water, and I went outside to turn on the spigot. Then I noticed that the strainer basket had some stray leaves that needed to be emptied. I knelt down on both knees and reached into the strainer, pulled out the leaves. This is when everything “…went to hell in a hand basket…”, as my father-in-law used to say.
When I moved to stand up, I forgot that my right ankle was kinda broken, and that it wouldn’t support me. “OH, NO!” was all I could say as I sprawled gracelessly forward. My right knee came down the two inches to the concrete, then the right side of my ribs, and finally my right hand.
After I hit, I rolled onto my back, groaning in utter pain and in total frustration.
That was when I noticed the sky.
Author’s note: Ribs are okay, just bruised. X-ray of right hand doesn’t show any broken bones that Dr. can see. Just have a severe sprain, and OH-BOY-HOWDY, that hurts like nobody’s business.