Thank you for stopping by my blog.

I write day after day because I discover extraordinary lessons from ordinary life experiences. I record my visual portraits of everyday life filled with something sacred in hopes that my reflections might bring an insight that blesses my readers.

Monday, September 7, 2015

September and fall have a new meaning.

           September is starting with a thud!            


     I had to go to the dentist again.  I had been painting a Congo picture all morning and had as much paint on me as the canvas.  I looked at the clock and decided I must stop now and get a shower if I hoped to get to my appointment on time.
     I stepped in the shower and turned on the warm water. Suddenly, I could feel my feet sliding and that horrifying feeling of falling.  My feet flew out from under me so quickly I had no time to think or prevent my fall.  I felt totally helpless and out of control as I landed on the right side of my face, then my shoulder, next my knee and lastly a futile attempt to soften my blow by using my hand to catch me.  It all happened in a couple seconds, but I had the feeling time had slowed down, and I could visualize and see each contact point hit the shower stall and then my slippery body landed on the tile in slow motion. 
    I knew my cheekbone and jaw hurt a lot since it was the first to hit the little seat thoughtfully molded into the Plexiglas shower stall.  My endeared bench for shaving my legs was now a destructive enemy.  I could still move my jaw that was positive. Next, I decided I should try to get up and must have pulled the shower curtain which dislodged the tension bar, and it thudded the left side of my head, bounced onto my forehead, then fell on my neck with a strangled hold.  My feet and knees were entangled in my elegant lace shower curtain.  This is beginning to look like a crime scene I thought.
     The water was spewing out onto the curtain and floor.  Of course, no one was home but Dobie Gillis, my sweet senior dog. Since I had left the door open, not to fog the bathroom mirror, he sat in the hall watching me with what his little remaining eyesight.  He tilted his head the way dogs do when they don’t understand and dropped his head and put his nose to the floor.
    “Well, Dobie, it looks like I’ve missed my shower window!”  He just sighed and lay down to see what contortion I’d do next. I slowly tried to sit up but had to untangle my legs from the octopus arms of the shower curtain and rod.  My head was spinning, but I got back into the shower stall and washed my hair, finished my shower, and dried my now throbbing body. I went to the freezer, grabbed a commercial ice pack, and held it gently on my cheek and jaw.  I looked at the clock and thought I had just enough time to get to the dentist.  Should I go?  Was I in one piece?  Could I drive?
     I could move all body parts, so I assumed I had scathed by what could have been a bone-breaking bonanza. I dressed slowly trying not to stress any of my bruises and sore places and arrived at the dentist on time.  For two weeks, my dentist had been adjusting my newly created partial. On my day-by-day visit, he would grind a little away attempting to make it a comfortable fit.
    “How are you today,” Dr. Bible generically inquired.
    “You might not want to ask,” I jested.
     He grinned.  I smiled holding my jaw and told him my tale of woe.
     Now, a couple of days away from my own version of slip and slide, I am aware of my grace covering.  I went to water aerobics the next day to smooth out some of my kinks and knots.  I have placed a rubber skid-free mat in the bottom of my shower and am working through shower phobia.  I’m grateful for God’s protection one more time.


2 comments:

  1. Happy to hear you were able to get up on your own and even drive. And you even kept your sense of humor.

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  2. Norma, if we can't laugh at ourselves, we will never make it through old age.

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