Then there was a fall in 2015 when I mis-stepped off a curb when a young couple walking a dog didn't move aside as I approached. Still have the scars from that one.
So I was due for another klutzy, fabulous trip-up, which happened the other day at work.
Leaving the Swan House to refresh my tea before taking over for a colleague's lunch break, I tripped on the sidewalk, falling forward really hard on the flat, dry surface. (See, I told you!) Tea tumbler and walkie-talkie went flying as I managed to brace the fall with my hands. Despite my arms and hands taking the brunt of the tumble, my head hit the pavement, bouncing once.
Guests approaching the house rushed to my rescue, retrieving the walkie and cup and helping me sit up. Hands chewed up and bloody from the sidewalk, small head wound, and general body-shock, it took a few minutes for me to shake it off. I notified my bosses on the walkie and assured the guests that I was fine, just a little shaken.
Security and bosses rushed to assess the damage, document my injuries, and offering to call an ambulance. Nah. I was shaken (not stirred) but felt well enough to carry on for the rest of the work day.
Two days later, I'm still sore all over and the heels of my hands are bandaged, but my hard head only has a small cut, not a swollen lump or anything that would belie the fact that I'd bounced my head of a hard pavement. The band-aid across my right temple makes me look kinda bad-ass, so I'll keep it on for a few days.
So, yes, another spectacular Elvis moment, because I can't help falling. Sigh.
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