I haven’t been swimming for about a week, & won’t again till the weekend. Last week I went to Mexico City and had a freak accident. I was the freak; it was my fault. My friend Patti and I decided to take a Metrobus to the Centro Historico, & we walked up the elevated concrete boarding platform, & then all of a sudden, there was the bus, & I absentmindedly tucked the card in my wallet & absentmindedly followed Patti & absentmindedly, I think, forgot that I was boarding a bus. I stepped directly into the gap between the platform & the bus & sunk all the way to my hip.
I am dismayed to discover that when worried that I might be dragged through the streets of a metropolis what I shout is, “Help! Help me! Help!” This is precisely (I believe) what I shouted when I was attacked by geese almost a year ago. I shout for help, specify that it is I who needs help, & then again request help. Anyhow, several of my fellow bus riders helped me to my feet & found my wallet. The driver came & asked me a question. It is my subconscious policy, when asked a question in a language I don’t understand, to answer in the affirmative & in another language I understand imperfectly, but better. So I looked him in the eye & told him, “Oui.”
It turned out that he was asking me if I needed medical attention, so then I turned him down. My leg was banged up but not bleeding nor broken.
The next day, I bought this portrait of me that I happened to find at the Bazar Sabado.
By the time I got back my leg was looking unsightly & this morning I went to the doctor.
“Can I swim at Barton Springs?” I asked.
“When?” he said.
He wasn’t my usual doctor, who gave me the tetanus shot after my goose attack & to whom I regularly brag about swimming at Barton Springs. “As soon as possible,” I said.
As soon as possible turns out to be this Saturday. I can’t wait.
yikes! hope you heal in good time. a second of inattention that results in injury is a wake call to stay mindful and present - thank you for sharing how it happened. xxk
Cried laughing. Actual crying. (And wheezing, as it were, because I have an 18-month-old in daycare and never don’t have a cold.) Read it out loud to my wife and couldn’t see for the tears.
I was identically dismayed about “help!” when I got in between my dogs fighting several years back and one of their collars came off. It’s effective, though, as it turns out, as my always-shirtless, always-outside, late-forties next door neighbor leapt over the fence between our yards and sprayed us all with a hose. My hand was bitten and broken, but I was otherwise fine. Perhaps I would have healed faster if I had a swimming hole to get back to.
You are SO funny. Thanks for writing these.