It happened so fast. Just yesterday, it seems, it was May 1st. Somewhere along the way, someone managed to add a 3 in there.

I just returned from a 1.2 mile walk with Max down by the river. It would have been a little longer, but I took a tumble and felt it would be a good idea to head on home. Max was OK with that, especially since he was attacked by a big fluffy dog for no reason. It was mostly noise from both of them, but it sounded like really bad things were going to happen. Leaving was a good choice.

Since you’re wondering about my tumble, let me enlighten you.

As we walked along the path we eventually made it to the point where Max usually found his way down to the river. I never go down with him because it’s a little bit steep and the path is covered with loose rocks. It just didn’t seem like a good idea. So, I took a step back to get out of his way and discovered that I probably should have lifted my right foot a little bit higher. This became evident when my foot contacted the path before I expected it to, and my balance was compromised right away. Since I was expecting to lean back a little to compensate for my momentum going backwards, pausing my right foot caused my entire body to continue it’s backward motion without a foot reaching back to stop me. Consequently, my left foot became a pivot point for disaster as my head gathered speed to the rear.

I did my best to move my pivot point to my waist, but it wasn’t fast enough. Knowing that I was going to crash I extended my frail arms behind my back to absorb the contact before my posterior did. It worked, and I was able to pivot on my hands backwards into a tidy rocking motion on my back. I allowed my feet to extend upward, high into the air above me, to ensure the fishermen in the boats near the shore had a good sense of what was going on as they sat idly by. They may not have even known that I did this acrobatic move just for them. I surmised this was true since I didn’t detect any applause, or cheering.

I let my legs fall softly to the ground, rolled to my left side, then went through my well practiced motions to once again attain a vertical stance. As I did this I analyzed each motion to determine which parts of my body will be aching later. As I suspected, before hitting the ground, my wrists complained the most, then my shoulders, and neck.

As I sit here typing away, my pain level is minimal but experience has taught me that it’s a trick the body plays on someone who does what I did. It’s like having a rubber band stretched around hour body and someone pulls it away from contact and you breath a sigh of relief that is rudely terminated when it’s let go and slams back into you. Being prepared for this makes the pain more tolerable. It’s not a secret. It’s going to happen. I’ll just sit her and ignore it until it comes, then I’ll suffer in silence to ensure no one is aware. I can do this because I didn’t hit my head, and I wasn’t bleeding. That’s the main concern of my caretakers – bleeding and head bumps.

After thinking about this for a bit, I think it’s in my best interest to tell Lydia what happened just in case one of those guys in the boats recognized me and thinks it would be a good idea to call Jennifer and rat me out.

Ya, that would be a good idea. Now all I have to do is remember to tell Lydia when she comes back to the living room. I suppose I could text her, and save some time, but I’d rather look her in the eye so I can judge her level of concern and modify my narrative as necessary to leave her with a calm picture of the event.

Right now, sitting in my chair, a nap seems to be a really good idea. So I will. I think that’s because the adrenalin rush is going away. See you later.