Losing a part of me

Remember, over the last few posts, that I mentioned that there are some things I cannot do as well (or at all) as a morbidly obese man? I just had a really close call.

Princess Sophie asked nicely to go out for a walk. Not only does she deserve it for being so nice and polite, it is also my duty as a doggie-daddy to let my girl take me out for regular walks. And so we bundled up, nice and warm. Princess Sophie eschewed her coat, but I put on a sweater, a scarf, a ski jacket, an ear-band, and my hat. Off we went.

Sophie seldom wants to go very far when it is cold and dark, and when you add snowy to the mix she knows to do her business right quick and then come home to the warmth. We went across the street and down the block, and we had just crossed back to ‘our’ side of the street to head home when we hit a patch of ice on the sidewalk.

Daddy went ass over teakettle.

To be fair, that is not entirely true. I completely lost my footing, but there was a point where I felt that I could have recovered. I also strongly suspected in the moment that if I did try that, I might stay on my feet, but I would almost surely tear something; if my recovery attempts failed, I might fall on my head and really do myself an injury. I decided to go down on my own terms. Yes, all of that went through my head in that split second; welcome to the mind of a trained fighter.

I went down on the hard sidewalk. I did my best to contain my fall and minimize any damage I might have done myself… and I was quite successful. Yes, I likely exacerbated the existing pain to my knee, but I threw the leash out of the way, and as I fell I bent my knees and body so that my two hands could break the fall, rather than the fall break one of my two hands.

I did an excellent job of it, considering the circumstances. As both soldiers and martial artists are taught, when there is no further immediate danger, stay put. Take a moment to evaluate your body. Head was fine, my knees both hurt a little, but it was pain and not injury. My very recently broken ankle was somehow unhurt, as was my other foot. My face and torso were untouched, and my bum was cold on the hard ice-covered sidewalk, but there wouldn’t even be a bruise. I was, from all indications, fine. Nothing was broken. Not bones, not my phones, nothing. My eyeglasses, which in the scheme of things may cost less but would be more difficult to replace than the phones (as well as harder to live without for a few days), were also intact. I checked to see that Princess Sophie was okay, and she was… although you could tell she was worried about what happened to her Daddy. The pup-poop-bag-dispenser came open, but I recovered the pieces (as well as the bags, neither of which would have been the greatest loss).

Okay, everything is in order. Step 1, I took my earbuds out of my ears and put them in a pocket. We had not seen any fellow dog parents on our excursion yet, but it would not be unusual for one to happen along and ask if I needed help. It would not do to not hear them because of noise-canceling earbuds. Step 2, stand up.

I am a morbidly obese man lying on a sheet of ice. This step would not be an easy one. There was just no way to get a footing on a sheet of solid ice.

I realized that the best solution would be to roll off the sidewalk. It has been decades since I rolled around and played in snow, but any Canadian (or anyone who has ever lived in snowy climes) will know that when you have to get a footing, you are far better off on snow covered grass than you are on ice covered sidewalk. I did just that – I rolled over onto the nearly pristine snow. As I started to do that, a fellow doggie daddy came along and asked if I was okay and if I needed help. I decided to not be a hero and explain that I was fine but I was having trouble standing because of the ice. He offered me a hand, and once again I was upright. I did a second complete inventory of my body and, determining that I would be okay, thanked him and walked the rest of the way home.

I don’t know how different this would have one had I been 100lbs slimmer, but I do know that I am not as young as I once was, and I have to be careful. I do suspect that if I was slimmer, and if I was not still recovering from a broken ankle and wrenched knee, I would have likely had an easier time standing up than I did.

Unlike so many of my other experiences, I have no intention of trying this again when I have lost all of the weight. Once was enough, thank you very much… I am going to do my best to stay upright, whether fat or slim.

(This article will be referenced on my main blog page, http://www.garvis.ca)