So, this past weekend we made a quick trip to New York to see some of our Connecticut friends for an adult overnight away. It was glorious. One friend hooked us up at The Plaza Hotel on Park Avenue. If you like gold, you will LOVE this hotel. I highly recommend hanging out in the bathroom, with the robe. Super comfortable. We ate great food, stumbled upon a bar with great 90’s music like we were back in college again, walked (rolled) around and laughed. Laughed a lot.
After a few glasses of prosecco and many selfies later, we were leaving the cool 90’s music bar when it happened. I was being rolled down the sidewalk in my walker, the laughing continuing, and I was catching up on Instagram and Facebook posting my new selfies (of course), responding to a couple of messages when. SPLAT. My phone bounced down the sidewalk, my knees hit the ground (those poor things) and then my feet buckled under the weight of my body and all I could see was the sidewalk scuffing my black leather boots. I had been dumped. Out of my walker.
Of course this would happen on a busy NYC street. And right in front of a few folks just hanging out on the sidewalk. They continued hanging out and only muttered “gotta watch out for those sidewalks.” And then there were the six of us. I, sprawled out on the sidewalk, and the other five reaching in to help. I GOT IT GUYS. I wanted so bad to get up on my own. But, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I could not coordinate any of my body parts to get off that sidewalk. I asked Russ and another friend to grab under each arm and on the count of three hoist me up, with the intention of at least getting my legs straight and my feet properly situated. That was a pipe dream. A third friend moved my legs for me and the other two got the walker positioned and there I sat once again. So glamorous. And for the rest of the weekend Russ had a death grip on the walker and we kept our eyes peeled to the ground for any unsuspecting gaps. Those damn gaps.
The interesting thing is, I didn’t care. Well, it is not quite that I didn’t care, and more like, it was not the first time and it will not be the last time. Pardon my french but, shit happens. Wait, is that a Mariah Carey saying after her NYE Times Square disaster? We were all just having fun and there was an oopsie. It was not Russ’ fault that he didn’t see the 4 inch gap in the sidewalk. Those damn gaps. And it wasn’t my fault that I was giggling along and fooling around on social media. OK, OK, maybe I should have been “holding on” but, who cares? I gave myself my typical falling down survey:
- does anything hurt?
- is anything bleeding?
- are my clothes ripped?
- what did I drop and does everything still work?
- am I dirty? The important things…
My knees were sore. No idea about my hands, don’t remember how I landed exactly and there wasn’t any stinging so, they must have been fine. My jeans were not ripped. Surprisingly, my boots weren’t any more beat up than the minute before. And my phone still worked and wasn’t damaged from its own tumble. We were good.
It is honestly such a pain to maneuver around needing a walker, a wheelchair, a scooter, even a cane. I have said this before and I will say it again: they are just things. Inanimate objects, but important ones that require even more extra stuff. Special doors, elevators, lifts, special entrances and exits to accommodate their use. It may have taken five other people’s help to get me around that weekend, yet it just happened seemingly without effort (thank you friends!) Sometimes special plans have to be made but in general, it just is what it is. Many folks dislike that saying, I know I do, but there isn’t really another way to say it.
Our afternoon continued without fail. Ahhing and ooing in the hotel rooms, more laughs, more selfies, oysters, a fabulous dinner, a wine bar. It was a dream and I was living it. Strolling or rolling. And let’s be honest, some might say I maneuvered around better than the Uber drivers we had, considering.
In this situation, I am doing the best I can and I choose to be happy. I can say with confidence that I am literally DOING THE BEST I CAN. Every minute of my day is scripted with food prep, exercise, supplement planning, self-care, work and home life. So in a situation where I am choosing to be happy, the pitfalls don’t bother me as much.
Getting up is always hard, literally in my case and figuratively for all who suffer with things on the inside. Last time I was on the garage floor. This time I was on an NYC sidewalk. I GOT BACK UP both times (and many other times before). With a smile. Always with a smile.