My euphoria about my new scooter was misplaced, and prophetic as well. Impending doom usually comes after the realization that good intentions are simply not enough. "The path to hell is paved with good intentions," so they say.
I fell while hurrying to class this afternoon. I hate my transportation to campus. Parking costs $450 per academic year; too much. Then Jess's bicycle got stolen on campus. I had been riding it to class; it was the most convenient. I have been taking the bus, but I am usually late for it because I hate waiting, as well as the six-minute walk to the bus stop. That is why I got the scooter. It was a somewhat good idea at the time.
I jumped off the scooter (unmotorized) as it was moving. I apparently caught part of the scooter as I jumped off. I was sent forward flying, and my knee banged into the scooter, which apparently had lodged in the road for the split-second it took to open up my knee right where my patellar tendon is.
I called my 4:00pm prof to say I couldn't be in class, then I called Jess, who took me to the "urgent," not emergency, care center at the UMC, University Medical Center. I wish those slackers had gotten us our insurance cards, because it was embarrassing to have to claim that I have insurance but no card because of other people. Anyway, the health care was quicker than I thought it would be, and the doctor who sewed me up very nice. I nearly passed out. It was a dull pain, but it felt suddenly hot in the small room. Jess had to leave to throw up a little.
We got out and I dropped into my 6:30pm class at about 6:34pm to say I couldn't turn in my take-home test and wouldn't be able to be in class.
We got home and Jess made me soup and toast. Now I sit here, blogging a bit, with both my hands bandaged because of road burn, and considering how much work I should do and what I'll do in class tomorrow. I think we'll just watch The Matrix, and hopefully get near finishing it. The students will be excited to talk about the beginning of Brave New World, I expect, since I assigned the first chapter.
I have seven stitches in my right knee. I was disappointed to find out that the wound was about two inches wide; more than I expected. I feel like a leper with these bandages (just a bit). We'll see how long the sympathy lasts.
Jess was good and I love her, yes, both in sickness and in health. She is a great woman and I am proud of her.
Thankfully, I did not get hit by a car, as some UofA students have. But there is also the possibility that instead of cutting my knee, I could have just merely fallen down. But what's done is done. The stitches will come out in two weeks, I'll have full range of motion without discomfort in a month, and a few weeks after that, I'll be right back to normal.
Maybe I was fated to wear jeans more.