Table of Contents: The Big Bike Accident - September 1, 2004

On Saturday I accompanied Ian to Cougas and Betsy's house, where Ian and Cougas were going to watch the Michigan football game. I had no interest in the game, but I did have interest in being around people. During this visit, in addition to talking to our hosts, I listened to four speeches from the Democratic convention, which Ian had stored digitally on his iPod. They were the speeches of Bill Clinton, John Edwards, John Kerry, and Barak Obama.

I'd already heard parts of Theresa Heinz-Kerry's and Al Sharpton's speeches. Although the four speeches I listened to today were very good, none compared to the absolutely riveting and galvanizing speech Al Sharpton had delivered. Sharpton's speeches is one of the best I've ever heard, if not the most memorable! I felt that it could speak to the down and out people of our land in ways that the more refined speeches of the others might not do.

Somewhere in there, probably Sunday, I did a ton of cleaning. I totally surprised myself! I didn't realize I had that kind of energy. But that used up all the energy I had. It was good to be feeling a bit more self-sufficient. I did not want to be a patient for very long. I did not want to be helpless. I knew Ian had his life to live, and I was going to do everything I could to keep from laying my burden on him. I had been doing the dishes, and doing my best to take care of the things that I could so that when he had to do extra chores, he'd have less burden elsewhere.

I think that I'd been laying around one day for quite some time, probably Sunday after all that cleaning, and was beginning to feel that depression that comes with having wasted away a beautiful summer day. I decided I had to get out of the house. The plastic surgeon in the E.R. had warned me to stay out of the sun because sun could cause my abrasions to darken permanently. I'd been very diligent about this, but it meant that I had not been outside at all during any of the beautiful days following my accident.

I went to the Bluffs, the woods I'd spent countless hours in last Fall and Winter. I hadn't been there for a few months because I couldn't cope with how overgrown and mosquito-ridden it had gotten. But I took my chances today, and much to my delight, the overgrowth of Spring and Summer had died away, and the trails were much clearer now. I didn't take Lily, our dog, since I felt that I had just enough energy to deal with getting myself through the woods. I had none left to manage a dog.

I'd spent a lot of time in the past cleaning the trash out of the Bluffs. Some of the trash had been there for decades; much of it had been recyclable. I'd made a huge difference in the appearance of the park. However, as I walked there now, I could see more trash that had either gathered in my absence, or that had been revealed by more soil getting rubbed away by people's footsteps. I wondered to myself whether I'd resume my trash-collecting ways. I figured the question was academic, since I had no way to carry trash today.

But then I found myself gathering little bits of glass from here and there into single piles for later collection. Then, on the hill next to the cemetery, I found an empty hanging basket, which I quickly filled with cemetery trash. When it was full, I continued on, and quickly found an empty plastic bag. In the back of my mind, I think I'd known that bag was there; I may have even left it for myself months ago. I filled that bag full, too.

But before long, a nasty headache struck, and since I had no Vicoden with me, and the dinner hour was advancing I turned back. In true trash-maven form, I filled every nook and cranny of the hanging basket and plastic bag with trash as I made my way back out of the woods. I think I had answered my own question!

I was supposed to have cooked that night, but thank goodness for pizza delivery! We had pizza instead, and I cooked the next night. On Monday, I decided that I would try to go back to work on Wednesday. I couldn't imagine going back Tuesday, but I didn't want to delay much longer. I knew I'd start going stir crazy alone in the house. In light of that prospect, I'd also decided to return to the workplace to do my work, rather than working at home, as I thought I might. It was time to start facing the world. I couldn't hide away forever.

Monday passed away in unmemorable fashion. Tuesday, I decided not to take any Vicodin. I could not take that drug and expect to work. So I tried getting by on just over-the-counter drugs. But in the meantime I tried to get a prescription for something less mind-altering, but that would still do that job. By the end of the day, I'd gotten a med regimen plan from my doctor which had me taking Vicodin only at night. I was in a lot of pain that day because it turned out that I'd been taking twice as much Ibuprofen as I should have because I misunderstood the dosage of each tablet. I was afraid to take anything else for awhile.

But during that day, despite a constant headache, I wrote five or so of the sections of this narrative. It took me most of the day, even though it doesn't seem like a lot of text. But it was the best I could do. It was difficult for me to imagine how I was going to be able to function at work the next day, but I was determined to do it. I hadn't been able to imagine it yesterday either, so I'd known I'd just have to pick a day and stick to it.

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Table of Contents: The Big Bike Accident - September 1, 2004