(not me, just a low-budget re-enactor)
when my garage door opener stopped opening
the garage door opener guy came over to check it out
it was going to need to be replaced
it was quickly wearing out and about done.
when i asked if it was like when your grandma is slowing fading away
“grandma is dead.”
with that, he disconnected it
told me that i would acquire new muscles
opening and closing it by hand each day
until i got a new opener system.
i figured i could put it off for a few days and then deal with it
but life interfered
as it so often does.
as i was headed out for the day
i grabbed the door to close it
four fingers of my hand
somehow got stuck in the folding panels of the door as i rolled it down
i yelled out and quickly sprung into action
used my other hand to open it back up
fueled by superhuman (sort of) strength and adrenaline
to save the hand that felt like
it was being painfully crushed by an angry gorilla.
i saw myself in a precarious position
with no time to waste
in “127 hours”
where he had to use his dull pocket knife to saw off his arm
that was wedged between boulders in order to save his own life.
(james, before he sprung into action)
once i freed my hand
i surveyed the damage
four squeezed fingers
with deep scarlet creases
swollen and throbbing
but all parts still there
i drove with one hand to the home improvement store
walked to the back
found a wonderfully friendly worker who turned and said
“follow me to the wall and i hope i won’t be moving too fast.”
to which i replied:
“well, you do have an advantage.”
his response –
“really? i am in a wheelchair and you are walking on two legs.”
okay, so yes.
didn’t think of that.
put my little mishap into perspective.
he turned and smiled and said:
“i’m just kidding, but i am in a wheelchair.”
and that was it
he was great
we talked about his kids and school and teaching and accidents
the new stuff is ordered and the guys will be here this week to put it all in.
in the scheme of things
not too bad
not like the time i broke my toe dancing in the house and kicked the bathroom door when leaping.
or the time i sprained my foot playing family extreme badminton barefoot.
or the time i got my fingers caught in the hand mixer
when i was trying to pull out the beaters and it was still plugged in.
or the time i_______ (fill in the blank here numerous times)
no, not like those times.
but i’m thinking i should maybe ask for a pocket knife for mother’s day.
*disclaimer: this blog post was written with my ‘other hand’ and i am not responsible for errors.
“they’re funny things, accidents. you never have them till you’re having them.”
― a.a. milne
credits: fox searchlight films/127 hours, lowes, google images