This morning I fell off my bike. It just got fixed, this junky bike a neighbor made for me. We took it to a bike shop to get the brakes fixed and a tune up. We picked it up yesterday.
I was riding down the street and Ming hadn’t left home yet. He always locks the front door of our house, then messes around on his phone for a minute. He wants an app to record our ride.
Something was troubling me, and I was not really in my body. I was thinking way too hard. It was only my second ride on this bike. My seat was too low–my knees felt wrong, bending to too acute an angle, when I pedaled.
I needed to stop and got bothered by a small piece of glass in the road. Then I must have forgotten how bikes are so different from trikes. Stopping, I don’t have even a second to wait–I need to get a foot on the ground right away.
Failed to get a foot on the ground right away. I fell off my bike slowly and landed on the sidewalk. My right ankle and foot, right knee/foreleg, right elbow/forearm, and then finally my helmet hit the sidewalk. My helmet hitting the sidewalk was the slightest tap.
Oops. Yeah, that happened. I lay there a sec then sat up.
I felt embarrassed and sad. Everything seemed quiet for a second. Then life returned to normal. But I was sitting on the sidewalk, two blocks from home, which was not normal.
I thought I was ok, but when I get hurt, the pain takes a while. But nothing seemed damaged. I’d fallen very well. Sitting on the sidewalk felt ok, but there was glass. I looked across the street at the apartment complex there. No one was around.
Then Ming cycled up. He looked concerned. He asked if I was ok. I said, “Yeah, I fell.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Ok,” I said. “Sad. I didn’t get hurt, really.”
He offered me a hand to help me up, but I got up the way I prefer. I got my hands onto the ground and got to my feet, on my hands and feet, then raised up to standing.
Yeah, I could walk, but my right foot and ankle hurt. I asked Ming to raise my seat an inch or two, and he did. I got back on my bike, feeling shaky.
We had a short ride, around 20 minutes. I felt sad, cranky, clumsy, and annoyed with gravity and myself.
At home, I was like–we made it. I got off my bike ok. Then Ming took that picture of me. I’m wearing a pink shirt.
I washed my right arm at the sink, and it bled more. Ming checked for glass, but no glass was embedded in it.
Later I asked Ming, “What did you think, when you saw me on the sidewalk? You knew I fell off my bike?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Were you worried about me?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Did you assess me?” I asked.
“Yeah, I assessed you,” he said.
“How? Did you ask me who the president is?” I was giggling.
“That would be a tricky question.”
“Did you ask me what year it was?”
“No,” he said.
“Did you ask me how many fingers you were holding up?” I asked. Then I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers around.
“I asked you how many finger are on your hand.”
“Is a thumb a finger?” I asked. “Hmm. No, really, how did you assess me?”
“Made sure you could talk and no bones were sticking out,” he said.
“Yuck,” I said. “Did you make sure my pupils were the same size?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. I opened my eyes really wide and looked at him. “Can you really tell?”
“Yeah!” he said.
I felt more and more pain. I have a pinched nerve, and it gets jarred. Last time I fell, I slipped on some stairs a few months ago, and that fall jarred my pinched nerve too. Takes a couple days to recover.
Now I’m going to shower and go to bed. When I take off my clothes, I’m curious to see what colors my skin is.
This is my favorite song about a bike accident.
“I was an I, and now I am a V.”