We went out to the walkway around the roof and took in the spectacular view of the city beneath us. This was on our busy day, Wednesday, between shows. We had seen that matinee of "Anything Goes" and had gone to her apartment for dinner before our next show, "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying."
When we finally tore ourselves away from the rooftop view, I tripped and fell.
No, not off the roof. I missed a step coming off the roof into the stairwell. I guess my head was still in the clouds. I did a sort of somersault, almost hitting my head on the wall but protecting it with my arm. Maybe for me clutziness is another side effect of transplant. I can't blame it on my balance anymore. Especially in light of my low platelets, I have to look around more carefully. I have probably gotten overconfident that in some ways I am "normal" now, so I barrel ahead without looking. But really, although I've come a long way, I have a way to go.
Anyway, I picked myself up, got back to the apartment with Katie and grabbed an ice bag. My main concern was that I had messed myself up enough so that I wouldn't be able to run a part of next weekend's race in Philadelphia, but I was OK.
I had gotten a couple of three mile runs in, one day going twice around the Central Park reservoir and another doing three miles in a new place for me, the path along the Hudson River on New York's west side. My feet felt fine during those runs, but, annoyingly, acted up after the many more miles I put in just walking around the city and going up and down subway stairs. I've been home for three days now and although I've walked, I haven't run because of the stupid foot pain, but that is another story, so, back to New York.
Having succeeded in finding a good parking spot, I got just as invested in efficient use of public transit. We needed to go all the way cross town to get from my aunt's to the theater, and I had two bus passes left (worth $2.50 each) that would expire if I didn't use them the same day.
We were going to the theater with a mother and son from South Dakota who had never been to a Broadway show. When we started talking about how to get to the theater, I proposed that Katie and I use our bus passes so as not to waste the $5 and that they take a cab or bus and meet us there. They were perfectly agreeable to this.
Then I heard my mother's voice.
"What are you, crazy? You are going to the theater with these people who have never seen a show and you're going to make them go alone so you won't waste $5 after you spent how much on tickets? You really need to come to your senses and take a cab."
Totally right, not only because it would be easier for the South Dakotans but also because by now my feet had had enough, and my back and arm hurt from the fall. We got a cab without much trouble, and I rode with the ice pack pressed against my back.
The show was great. We all left smiling and humming. I threw the bus passes in the trash. So far I have remembered to look before I leap, um, I mean, before I step.
1 comment:
So, grasshopper, the moral is, and thus the entrance into self-actualization and the threshold of adulthood:
"It's okay to do something, even if your mother thinks it's OK!"
For some of us, like yours truly, it has taken a while longer than most...just watch your step as you cross over -- in your case a little more literally than figuratively!
Or, as the conducters used to say on the NYC subway: "Step lively, watch the closing doors!"
Post a Comment