Rain like a heavy mist fills the air. As part of my daily exercise, I'm tottering around the block with my cane held off the ground. The neurosurgeon at Harborview Hospital said I would never walk without a cane. I don't care what they think. I'm gonna do it! My emotional reaction to what the doctors said throws me off balance. I can’t get my cane down quick enough and the cold wet concrete speeding toward my face doesn't slow before slamming into my cheek.
“Huh!” Fireworks explode behind my eyes as I cover my bruised face with my good hand and roll off the sidewalk. I lie on the wet grass and try to convince myself that once I learn to walk again, it'll all be worth it. Blood coming from a gash under my eye is sticky on my fingers.
A young woman and her young son are walking behind me. Well, it's probably her son. I can't be sure. Maybe she found him in the park. Anyway, I know they’re close so I try to scramble to my feet like nothing’s wrong, but my throbbing head stops me. I lay back, trying catch my breath. I don’t much mind falling. I’m actually used to it, but I hate falling in public. I hate having people feel sorry for me. The woman and kid stop. I lift my head and try to smile at them.
“Are you OK, sir?” she asks.
I try to sound cheerful, like nothing’s wrong, “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
The woman hears my speech impairment and looks horrified. She grabs the kid’s hand. “Come on Billy. He’s drunk!”
They hurry off up the hill. I lie there a few more minutes catching my breath, then scramble to my feet and follow after them. Holding my cane off the ground, I’m repeating the phrase my speech therapist gave me.
“WINNERS don’t quit. Winners DON’T quit. Winners don’t QUIT!”
2 comments:
That's right, Al, Winner's don't quit!!! That's right & we won't quit!
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