three weeks ago, my right leg slipped into a gap between the platform and the train at Times Square 42nd street in NYC.
it happened so quickly, and i was halfway on the train, so i pulled my leg out, onto the train, and the doors closed. 

the average new yorker is has stared at this sign on the subway on a consistent basis:

...and the average new yorker knows that people don't step in the gap.
i mean, why would they do that?
well, that shit happens.

went to the emergency room, was admitted to the hospital, been on crutches for 3 weeks.
whole nine.
waiting my spot in the emergency purgatory room of doom

fall risk indeed.
it's been almost 3 weeks, and everyone keeps asking when i'll be better.
'when will you be off the crutches?'
'when will you walk again?'
'when will you be miraculously healed and the 7-inch hemotoma melt away into oblivion?'

i don't know.

i mean, when do we ever know when?
if we knew when, we'd spend much more time with loved ones before they exit.
we'd freshen our breath before we bumped into the love of our life.
we'd walk very slowly over a gap and through a subway door.
but if we always know when, what's the point of living?
guess we're constantly being prepared for whenever when happens.

i'm beginning to find peace with it, though ya'll ruin it every time you ask.
so stop asking.
because i don't know.

1 comment:

  1. Feel better Nedra. If you need anything I'm not too far away :)