After a fall
Given a chance, I would go on a hike every weekend. This rarely happens though. Finding friends who enjoy it as much as I do, and amongst them, finding people who would actually like to go with me, is hard. Thus I resorted to the meetup app, where people plan events and all I had to do was show up. I felt proud of myself, feeling like I was taking a risk trusting people I have never laid eyes on before.
My first such experience was genuinely memorable, thanks to all the people I met, especially a Danish lady who came to the USA about sixty years ago. She never gave her age away directly. Looks like women are the same everywhere, young or old, never wanting to reveal how old they really are. What set her apart was that she effortlessly came across at least a decade younger than she really is. Only after listening to everything she said about her husband, three children and herself did I guess her age to be about eighty four or eighty five years. I wish I would grow old like that, not having to rely on anybody else at all. She did reveal her secret though; she did everything that kept her happy; hiking, dancing, all the while adhering to a disciplined lifestyle. Maybe I am on the right track already, considering how much of a stickler for routine I am.
The first time gave me enough confidence to try it again when I had the opportunity. I was on my way to a hike again with two people who I met for the first time only minutes prior to leaving. The person driving us seemed eccentric, talking about his earlier driving mishaps and sometimes trying to demonstrate those as well. We arrived just on time to catch the leader’s instructions for the hike. I am sure the majority of us were here thanks to the multiple ‘river crossings’ that we had been promised. We started off on the redwood grove that had some of the oldest and most beautiful trees in the park. I could not wait to cross the river as we walked alongside it until lunch time, by when I did not feel like I was with strangers. I knew the day could only get better with all these people around. I treated myself to some leftover food from the previous day for lunch and was all set for our first river crossing. After careful consideration, most of us without waterproof shoes decided it was better to take them off. I went ahead with my ever impulsive, ‘How hard can it be’ attitude. Boy, was I wrong! It was time to realise the consequences of being foolhardy. I made it across the river and readied myself for one last jump to get to the rocks on the other side. As ill luck would have it, I misjudged the foothold and my right foot seem to crumble in the water with all my weight on it. I felt a throbbing pain, but managed to drag myself up the rocks and sit down to take a closer look at my foot. I tried to calm myself as I felt dizzy with pain; pain that I had not felt in a long time. My foot felt tender and hurt when I tried to stand up. There were some people who seemed to know a thing or two about this and tried to diagnose if it was a fracture or just a very bad sprain, but could not come to a definitive conclusion.
One thing was for sure, that I would not be able to complete the hike. The only way I had was to walk a couple of miles more and get to the highway, where I would hopefully find someone nice enough to give me a ride back to where we started. It was a day for me to experience real kindness from unknown people. Not only did two people in the group stay with me for the rest of the hike, but also made sure I was fine the entire two hours it took me to cover the two miles. I felt guilty that the two of them had to cut it short because of me, but we all seemed to agree that it was a little better this way when we were not trying to keep up with anybody, enjoying every breath at our own pace. I am surely going back there and completing the hike as soon as I can walk properly. We got to the highway and asked some people parked there for directions. As we proceeded to walk, one of them called us back and offered to drop us. It’s these little gestures that make us feel like the world is not such a bad place, after all.
I got off the car near my place, unable to move a step forward without hurting. Once home, I burst out crying, wondering what I would do if I am unable to walk for a few days. So much for the independence that I always talk about. I felt helpless. That lasted for a short while though. My roommates made sure my anxiety disappeared. I waited until the next day to go to the hospital and had to hear some bad news that overshadowed my excitement of being pushed around on a wheelchair for the first time. It was fracture indeed, not one, but three in my right foot. I was told I am brave for walking all the way after it happened, but would have preferred one less fracture. My dejection when I realised that I have to miss my long weekend trip was much more than having to get used to using only one leg for a while. I went back to the hospital a couple of days later to have a cast put on, which would become a part of my body for a few more weeks. I simply cannot wait to get back to work on my knee scooter, which is probably my coolest discovery thanks to all of this, after a week of working from home (not really). I have promised myself too many things that I will do as soon as I am back on my feet. I am afraid I might get used to all the affection and assistance that I receive now. Nevertheless, this has made the urge to be as useful as I can, when anybody around me needs a helping hand, whether they ask me or not, as strong as ever!