Monday, September 25, 2017

An Addendum

So if you were to read my post on my other blog titled, A Fall of Olympic Proportions, you might just think it was funny story about a fall.

I'm here to tell you all of the reasons it was not;  the things that that 100-voice chorus did not know about me and my circumstances as they watched that fall.

1) No one knew how I agonized over going to that event in the first place.  How I despaired about being with 1250 other attendees.  How I worried about having to stand too long during a cocktail hour.  And so no one knew that my plan was to arrive late and so that is how I came to notice that the valet parking was a nightmare; for certainly I could not walk the long distance from the self-parking area.

2)  Likewise, no one knew how I agonized over which shoes I was going to wear; for we all know that the ONLY footwear that feels good on my feet are my UGG boots and slippers and I certainly couldn't wear either of those to a fancy event.  And so I chose a sensible shoe with a bit of a chunky heel and - most importantly - extra padding on the ball of my feet.

3) And as the speeches were wrapping up and the time came close to retrieve the car from the valet service, no one knows how I worried that I was going to have to stand in a long and tiring line waiting for an overwhelmed valet staff to bring my car.  And so I begged my husband to hustle to the front door so he could be first in line - which indeed he was.

4) But no one noticed that as I joined him on that second step of that grand entrance, waiting for our car, my right foot was already halfway off of that step and I didn't sense it.  Hence, the momentum of the weight shift as I turned around to say something to a friend and turned around again, was more than my neuropathic feet and legs could handle and I fell forward out of the blue.

5) No one but my husband knows how upset I became on the ride home as he tried to blame my fall on poorly marked steps at a brand new venue.  But I knew what the cause of my fall was and it somehow upset me that it appeared that he - like so many others - wanted to minimize or explain away my ailments.

Nobody knows.

I tell you, nobody knows.

And so I told him that I didn't want to hear a million excuses about the size or construction of those steps.  I wanted - instead - for him, to say "Gee, Liz, I'm sorry that your freakin' disease has caused you to lose all feeling in your feet and so you couldn't gauge where you were and consequently fell on your ass in front of about 100 people."

Yes, I yearned for him to say, "I'm sorry that your feet made you look like an ass."

Then, and only then, I would know someone else knew.