It is one small step to the walkway which will take me to my car. One step.
-=-=- WHOMP! -=-=-
I appear to be on my elbows and knees. yeowwwwch. 3o long seconds is what it takes for my breath to return. For a short moment I am concerned that I have broken my wrist but miraculously it has bent precariously and returned to a human position. As the feeling returns to my extremities I realised that I have skinned my knees and arms. Minor scrapes are like paper cuts: they hurt majorly for so minor a thing. The shock is beginning to dissipate and the pain radiates like a warm sun.
Now I pretend to be fine as I hear the door open behind me. My client is worrying that there was water on her step. No no, I tell her its the damned glasses. Can't take me anywhere. I get up to prove I am really all right and thank God I am wearing black pants. The blood does not show. My hand rebels and will not hold my binder. I clutch it to my chest with my arm and make my hasty comic exit.
Next client is a palliative care assignment. She had a bad night and wants her opiated sleep. Hello. Here are your medications. Good bye. Quick. Efficient. Over.
Now I am at the beach. A Crane, a solo Crane, is sitting on the float where swimmers will congregate later. He looks out to Sea. Alone, like me. I watch "The Stroll" where joggers burn calories and dog-walkers exercise their little companions. Almost noone seems to have a larger animal.
Off to my left, a digger starts up. It is a strange sight. It appears to be scooping sand up and pushing it into the water. Why? The Crane flies away, spooked by the sounds. My radio is set to, what else? GodblesstheCBC. Dustin Bentall plays some folksy tune. Is this Barney's son? Or Daves? Or are there more than 2 Bentalls in this world. Bentall, there is a name that sparks memories.
David Bentall was the first person I knew to have a White Spot credit card.
I always pretended not to care about his wealth and vanity but secretly I was very curious.
Until we went to Keats Island camp and I met Barney Bentall.
oh swoon.
I remember being young. It was glamourous and exciting and completely wasted on me.
I was always so busy. Running running running.
Now I stand still.
I like standing still.
breaks over... back to work.
I appear to be on my elbows and knees. yeowwwwch. 3o long seconds is what it takes for my breath to return. For a short moment I am concerned that I have broken my wrist but miraculously it has bent precariously and returned to a human position. As the feeling returns to my extremities I realised that I have skinned my knees and arms. Minor scrapes are like paper cuts: they hurt majorly for so minor a thing. The shock is beginning to dissipate and the pain radiates like a warm sun.
Now I pretend to be fine as I hear the door open behind me. My client is worrying that there was water on her step. No no, I tell her its the damned glasses. Can't take me anywhere. I get up to prove I am really all right and thank God I am wearing black pants. The blood does not show. My hand rebels and will not hold my binder. I clutch it to my chest with my arm and make my hasty comic exit.
Next client is a palliative care assignment. She had a bad night and wants her opiated sleep. Hello. Here are your medications. Good bye. Quick. Efficient. Over.
Now I am at the beach. A Crane, a solo Crane, is sitting on the float where swimmers will congregate later. He looks out to Sea. Alone, like me. I watch "The Stroll" where joggers burn calories and dog-walkers exercise their little companions. Almost noone seems to have a larger animal.
Off to my left, a digger starts up. It is a strange sight. It appears to be scooping sand up and pushing it into the water. Why? The Crane flies away, spooked by the sounds. My radio is set to, what else? GodblesstheCBC. Dustin Bentall plays some folksy tune. Is this Barney's son? Or Daves? Or are there more than 2 Bentalls in this world. Bentall, there is a name that sparks memories.
David Bentall was the first person I knew to have a White Spot credit card.
I always pretended not to care about his wealth and vanity but secretly I was very curious.
Until we went to Keats Island camp and I met Barney Bentall.
oh swoon.
I remember being young. It was glamourous and exciting and completely wasted on me.
I was always so busy. Running running running.
Now I stand still.
I like standing still.
breaks over... back to work.
