Didn't See It Coming

My little buddy and I were both in high spirits as we set out for a walk Sunday morning. His walks are the highlight of his days, and I was savoring my first full day of my staycation, as my favorite roommate had decamped to a beachside mansion a couple of towns over to dog sit. The sun was just peeking out, the birds were chirping, and I had a sense of renewal and possibility.

We were about three houses down when a neighbor’s unleashed hunting dog ran at us to attack my tasty little morsel. The last thing I remember is bending to pick up my dog. Suddenly, I was airborne and then I was crash landing on my ass in the middle of the street. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my lower back, and an inner voice was saying “oh this is not good”.

By this time the dog’s owners had gotten him under control and were now apologetically trying to help me when it became clear I was unable to get up. (I might have been more receptive or reassuring had the same dog not attacked a year or so earlier, causing me to almost strangle my pup when I had to hoist him by his leash to escape.) An ice pack was offered, and after a few minutes I attempted to get up. Which led to my being on all fours in the middle of the street for several minutes, a visual I won’t soon forget.

I somehow managed to hobble home, screamed through getting on my bed, and realized I was going to need some medical attention. I sent an SOS to my neighbor/friend, who I now call the Angel of Mercy, and she appeared and called an ambulance immediately.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I hid my dismay by cracking wise. As the EMTs were loading me onto a stretcher: “well, this is the first time I’ve had four men in my bedroom at once”. And on the way to the hospital: “this is going to ruin the tour” (if you know, you know). Once at the hospital, I got a bit more serious (which is good because it hurt to laugh) and I started to jump on the “I am truly fucked” train. Until I remembered a comment my wise friend Oreo Son made on a recent post.

Here's what he said: “I deal by starting with what’s the worst that can happen, followed by what can I learn, and then what can I do about it. Then I move on to something I can be thankful for.”

This was so helpful. It stopped me from catastrophizing and ruminating and sent my thoughts in a more concrete, rational direction.

What’s the worst that can happen? This could require surgical or other intervention and/or could take ages to heal. Next to that, the probability that I’d have to cancel my trip to Toronto next week was minor.

What can I learn? I learned then, and in the following days, the importance of being able to ask for, and accept, help (not my strong suit).

What can I do about it? I can do everything recommended to assist healing. And if I find I’m not healing despite an X-ray that showed no problems, I can proactively request more detailed imaging.

Moving on to something to be thankful for: hands down it’s my Angel of Mercy; I’d be lost without her continuing care. Closely followed by my dog escaping injury (he’s a lovely little nurse) and my home being a peaceful sanctuary. Of course, I’m thankful that I didn’t hit my head or get hit by a car as I sat in the middle of the street. And I’m thankful for Oreo Son’s wisdom.

It’s day five and I’m still in significant pain (lots of shouting of obscenities going on) and using a walker to get around a bit. I have plenty of time to daydream and brainstorm, all of which will form the basis for my next pivot. Stay tuned.

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Thanks for reading. What works for you to deal with “bad things”?