tag:dreamwidth.org,2011-10-28:1100478My so-called journalfranklanguagefranklanguage2015-12-25T04:55:00Ztag:dreamwidth.org,2011-10-28:1100478:171026About last night…2015-12-25T03:38:29Z2015-12-25T04:55:00Zpublic6Well, yesterday evening I was on my way home, and took the 6 train uptown to Astor Place. It was only a few stops, and as I left the train, I saw a guy—didn't make eye contact—just aimed himself into the doorway of the train and shouldered me aside. (People! There wasn't a crowd, there wasn't a bottleneck; what's the rush?)<br /><br /><img height="240" src="http://gothamist.com/attachments/byakas/42614subway.jpg" width="320" /> <img alt="Waiting area at Beth Israel ER" height="240" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/franklanguage/13256327/68768/68768_100.jpg" title="IMG_3146" width="240" /> <br /><br />Because he had pushed me and I was off-balance, my left—leading—foot went into the gap between the platform and the train. I screamed, loud; in a situation like that, I want people to know there's a crisis. (I want the conductor to know he can't pull out of the station yet, either.) So a few people pulled me to safety—thank you! I staggered over to a bench and sat. A [different] guy had stayed behind, and asked if I was all right. I really was; I really felt all right, and also, I felt embarrassed. I always feel embarrassed when I fall. So I told him I was okay.<br /><br />I called home and told Richard what had happened, then set off for the M8 crosstown bus. (I had no money on me, or I might have taken a cab. Probably.) My foot and knee were hurting by now, and I decided to take myself to the ER, which wasn't far. I was really lurching along, so if there was a break, I might as well know it and take appropriate action. I transferred to the M15 up First Avenue, and it let me off at 14th street; I lurched the two blocks to the <a href="http://www.bethisraelny.org">Linsky Pavilion of Beth Israel Medical Center</a> at 1st and 16th, and then had to turn the corner to the ER.<br /><br />Nice thing about a holiday weekend; there are a lot fewer people around. [See my <a href="http://franklanguage.livejournal.com/2007/07/03/">first-ever post</a> on LJ.] Triage was a breeze, and I went to wait in a little cubicle, and started to make a post, when I was interrupted by a nurse. She needed to see my wristband; I showed her. I had to use the bathroom, so they gave me a pair of yellow size XL socks with non-skid patterns on top and bottom.<br /><br />(I lost my draft of the LJ post; fuck you, LiveJournal. To tell you the truth, I hate writing posts on my phone anyway.)<br /><br />The adrenaline! I'm hung-over from the adrenaline; glad today wasn't a day I had to get up early. I'm walking with a cane, because all they gave me was an Ace bandage and a scrip for some ibuprofen. (Fuck you, Beth Israel.) But nothing was broken; I was in worse pain earlier today, and I got through it. Officially speaking, I was discharged with a <i>contusion</i>, and that makes sense. I hate having to do 100 stairs up and down just to get home or leave home. Perversely, they gave me a referral for follow-up to a doctor across town on 23rd street and 7th avenue, so I guess I'm not going to bother with that; I'll do what I did for my other knee: ghetto physical therapy. <br /><br />And I hate sleeping in my loft bed when I'm so compromised; it feels awkward amd dangerous to be four feet off the ground. (I've always hated my loft bed, but I hate it more when I have trouble getting in and out of it.)<br /><br />Tomorrow is another day. (I was afraid of that!)<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=franklanguage&ditemid=171026" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments