Sharpwriters' Thoughts Blog Archives - Archives - July 2001 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 June 2007 August 2007 September 2007 December 2007 March 2008 May 2008 July 2008 August 2008 April 2009 September 2009 October 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 June 2010 Current Posts Friday, January 20, 2006 One Year Later It's 6:30 here, so it's something like 1:30 A.M. in Rome. A year ago I was getting home--to the hotel--from the hospital after having fallen at the Coliseum and gotten nine stitches and an x-ray of my head which, Mike says, showed nothing. Well, that's pretty much what the doctor said as well. At least that's what I think he said. My Spanish and his Italian got us some distance, and our guide Mercedes Medici was a dear and tried to be with Mike and with me when they wouldn't let Mike and me be together. Two days later we flew home. It was my 58th birthday and the longest day I can remember, in that we gained those seven hours and the fun of the trip and excitement of seeing Rome that had gotten me through the 21st wasn't there any more. It was a long day, but I kind of forgot that birthday and had to work on getting my mind to understand indeed I had aged another marker. At home the doctor here did a cat-scan and again, found nothing up there. The same was not true of my optician. I called him one morning to tell him of a new pet resident in my eye. He said come "right now" which I did, and then he explained my new--and only--floater. I named the floater Guido and he remains with me to this day. So does the sensation of something being wrong in that part of my forehead. Visually, you can see the scar if you get close enough, but I've stopped putting extra makeup on it and the picture on the right was taken a couple of weeks ago by Pam Johnson, Mike's cousin. It's not obvious from the outside, just the inside. How did that happen? If you don't know the magic vitamin E works on places that will end up being scars, learn it now. With Mike's surgical wound we used the pills and cut them open a couple of times a day to smear the liquid. For me, I found that Walgreen's sells the stuff in a small bottle, much neater! Either way, faithfully putting it on the area minimizes the scar. A friend who is lots like me in lots of way recently fell and hurt herself. She said she realized why she fell. Her mind was far away from what her feet were doing. I think that describes me. I'm really not klutzy, thought I've fallen in Rome and in Amsterdam. I'm just distracted, but oh, what a distraction! I guess I'm left with a good story, and neat memories. What more could you want? Share | posted by Barbara Rollins @ 6:28 PM 0 Comments: Post a Comment Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] << Home