Man down

I am writing this from our kitchen table, despite the fact it is 4:00 p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. Yesterday morning, hubris overcame reason: rain notwithstanding, I chose to ride my bicycle to work. Outfitted with a slicker, I imagined all risks had been covered. Wrong. I forgot the advice of many a seasoned Torontonian bike-rider to navigate with the greatest of prudence the streetcar tracks that crisscross our city, and blithely took a downhill swipe at the most diabolical tangle of them, thinking to outrun a row of approaching cars. True to legend, tracks become slick as ice in the rain and will suck any incautious bicycle tire without ruth into their vortex. Down went I, hip-first, sliding in a spectacular diagonal across the intersection. Cars mercifully braked and their drivers paused expressionlessly while I gathered myself, my tangled bike and the shredded vestiges of my dignity from the rain-swept tarmac and hobbled to the corner. I can only imagine I was sort of numbed by shock and pain and rain, because after a brief inspection of the bike, I remounted and continued my journey to work, believing myself only superficially affected by the fall. But my concern slowly mounted in proportion to the increase of pain in my hip-joint. By the time I got to work, I could barely walk. It was fairly pathetic. I did a disposable ice-pack from our first-aid kit, which brought brief relief, but soon it became clear that I was quite helpless and very possibly facing a fracture or at the least a sprain. So home I came, hobbling at an excruciating pace up and down the staircases of the public transport system, too cheap (yes, me!) to shell out 25 bones for a cab.

It was a painful night, relieved by painkillers and cold-packs, and this morning I decided the attempt to get to work would probably do even further damage. So here I sit, never far from our institutional-grade walking-cane left over from T's bouts with sciatica in the early oughts, watching AbFab clips on YouTube and feeling the cool wave of laughter therapy wash my aching limbs.

To alleviate concern, I am on the mend; it can't have been a fracture or even a sprain, as I am walking mostly without pain. I imagine another day or two and it will be fine. It better be as I expect to get back on the bike tomorrow. I know, have I gone mad? Who is this person? Yatsu expressed some concern recently about the perils of my biking in the city, and I've thought about it a bit since then. There's an undeniable aspect of defiance, of independence, of daring fate to act. I wouldn't call it a death wish; quite the opposite; a life wish. For a person who has allowed fear to guide so many of his decisions, it feels great to conquer that fear in at least this one arena. It's not bungee-jumping or alligator-wrestling, no, but it keeps the small warrior inside me alive, if just slightly bruised.