FALL

|First thing I have to tell you, Folks is that my dentist is actually in Romania. Bucharest to be exact and No I’m not having retractable fangs inserted. It was the cheapest place for implants and I was going to my brother’s dentist so no fear of any mishaps. Lordy! My other two siblings, wives and kids were heading to the Black sea coast where my brother had a holiday home. They were all on holiday, except me. I was headed for the dentist so couldn’t go with them. Sun, sand and sea for them. Drills, fillings and pain for me. So having waved them off, I settled myself in my friend’s comfy flat. It wasn’t so bad. I walked a lot, not being far from Bucharest town. I got to see and know the sights when one morning I spotted the fancy hotel. The Bucharest Hilton. I discovered that you could actually use the fitness suite, sauna and pool for a small price for the day. So a few days later in I went. Now considering I couldn’t really swim at the time, I was learning at home, if I remember rightly the Hilton pool wasn’t too deep. Off I swum up and down, quite happy with my progress.

        After all that exertion, five minutes, I was feeling tired out, climbed out of the pool and proceeded to walk to my deck chair. One minute I was walking, the next I was lying flat out on the floor, feeling so clumsy and embarrassed, especially when a gentleman came over to assist me. I thanked him, insisting I was fine and sat down, lifted my book and began to read. Was I ever so wrong!

  A few minutes later, I realised something was not quite right. My right arm was shaking and refused to do my bidding. What the Hell was wrong? At that point no pain whatsoever. Adrenaline probably kicking in. I called the lifeguard over and tried to explain what it felt like. I don’t speak Romanian but the lady was good at English. I really don’t remember when the pain started. It must have been at that moment because the lady immediately called for an ambulance.

Oh! Lordy! Pain! Never felt anything like it. Well, maybe childbirth comes in there somewhere above it.  Think it was a man who decided that childbirth pain was the easiest forgotten after holding the beautiful  ne born in your arms. Forget that! Yes, my kids were beautiful and still are but the memory of pain remains. I was transported to hospital and deposited in a cubicle, already occupied, may I add , by a lady on a bed and husband, I presume. Only the lady in the bed! The husband sitting beside her. Now remembering I was still wearing my swimsuit with hotel dressing gown over it and a pair of their slippers. I was greatly taken aback when after divesting myself of the dressing gown I was then asked to remove my swimsuit. What? Were they joking? Had they forgotten  there was a man over there. I refused quite definitely until said gentleman left the room. He was not too pleased to be leaving his sick wife but I was not flaunting myself in front of a stranger. Not that I have much to flaunt! Examination over, I was trussed up like a chicken and transported back to the flat. The leisure centre lady was very good. She collected my pain killers for me from the chemist  but then requested I return the dressing gown and slippers. But after seeing my distressed face she relented.

   So there was I, all alone in the flat, feeling so sorry for myself, while the rest of my family enjoyed the sun, sand and sea of the Black Sea Coast. I could hear folks outside laughing and having fun, even smell the barbeques. I couldn’t get outside the door. Too many locks, handles and such, couldn’t turn them. I lived on crackers and juice for a few days because bending and trying to reach stuff was quite uncomfortable. Alcohol and crackers would have been better but sure you can’t have everything. No point in ringing my family, spoiling their holiday. What could they do? Just sympathise with me? I waited until they were returning and I rang. Conversation went something like this.

 “Hmmm! How are you all? Sunned, sanded and swum.”

“Yeah! Had a great time. Beautiful here. You should have come with us.”

“ You know I think you could be right. I had a little adventure of my own. I broke my shoulder.”

Well, the silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Until I heard the shocked voice of my brother Tony:

“Good God!”

Explanations given and arrival time estimated we hung up. My trials were not yet over. At Bucharest airport I was brought into a small room to be searched. Security must have thought I was faking the injury and was carrying drugs, rifles, bottles of tuica, the beautiful tasting Romanian brandy. They were set on removing my bandage. Please don’t, I silently begged. It really hurts. I eventually boarded the plane for home, the painkillers knocking me out for the whole journey.

My son picked me up from  the station and drove me to his house. I stayed with the family for a while because I couldn’t really do anything for myself. I couldn’t even fasten my bra which was no loss. As I said before, there wasn’t much to protect.

  Two really stupid things I whinged  to my son.

“I won’t be able to get arrested now.”

“Why would you want to get arrested, Mum?”

“I don’t” I answered.” It’s just I wouldn’t be able to get my arm round my back.”

“ You can always get handcuffed round the front, you know.” And he just shook his head at his crazy Mum.

“Also, I won’t be able to do Auld Lang Syne.” Not that I ever wanted to.

Aaron just shook his head again and said exasperatedly:

“ Take your painkillers, Mum,” probably hoping they would knock me out for a while.

“ I think they’re affecting your brain.”

  The doctor’s diagnosis was that my shoulder resembled a boiled sweet that someone had taken a hammer to. After weeks of physio at home and in the hospital I regained most of the movement in my arm. It will never be the same again but I can swim and dive now. How about that?