notes from the edge - 32
Call me slow witted, but it wasn't until my sister called and reminded me that I realized I have been on crutches for a sprained ankle for every post-secondary degree that I possess.
In undergraduate (McGill University) I was on my way to a weekly baby sitting job when I fell. It was in the middle of winter and the snow plows were on strike. There had just been a snow storm and I did not realize that I was stepping so close to the curb when I fell over onto my ankle. I was closer to the baby sitting job than I was to my dorm (which by the way was up the mountain). It just so happened that two good Samaritans were walking by. One man was with his significant other, well dressed and kind if rather shorter than I was. The other was a man who had obviously spent most of the day drinking, likely from the brown paper bag he was clutching with great enthusiasm, and was about my height. They both agreed to help me to the apartment (a second floor walk-up). By the time we got to the door we looked quite the disreputable and disheveled crowd. Before I could explain myself to Mrs. W when she answered the door she said, "Peggy, I do not mind you bringing friends but I do expect you to arrive sober!"
I guess that the smell of the one helper was stronger than I first thought. I explained and hobbled into her apartment to call some friends for help. The two men that had helped me to the apartment left, the one with great haste and some backwards glances, the drinker less hurriedly, he was willing to stay and help further, and took some discouragement.
I called two friends (Larry and Savian) who arrived right away and in one piece. We then called a cab and went to the emergency of the Royal Victoria Hospital. Montrealers will know that this hospital is perched on the side of Mount Royal (right across from my dorm, actually). Remember, there had been a great storm and no plows. Larry and Savian ended up having to push the cab up the last part of the trip to the emergency entrance (being my friend is a lot of work it seems).
Once I had been through emerg and had been splinted and given crutches, my friends decided they would "borrow" the wheelchair to get me across the street and through the parking lot to the dorm. It was a good idea, and would have worked fine if they had not lost control of the chair on the ramp, the only plowed expanse of pavement we had seen all day. The ramp was on a steep incline (side of Mount Royal, remember) and the wheelchair plunged down the ramp and into a snowbank.
So I ended the evening just as I had started, face down in the snow, but this time with crutches to help me along.
In teacher's college it was a less colourful story, and so I will leave off with my musings at this point, unless it is to say that perhaps I should be cautious with anymore thoughts of further educational opportunities. I don't know how much more healing power is left in my ankle!
Regards,
Peggy
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