I was crossing Telegraph at Haste not half an hour ago when I fell somehow and landed on my ankle. I’m not really sure how that happened, but this is what I think: I was about to cross the street when someone handed me a flyer. I took it and kept walking, but she said something else so I turned my head. My feet kept going, though, and I stepped off the curb without knowing it. When the street was not the distance from my foot that my foot expected it to be, I fell. This is how it felt: walking and feeling good, feeling suddenly surprised, finding myself on the floor with things scattered next to me (including my glasses, which I had tucked into my collar since I was wearing my sunglasses), in that order. I don’t know what position I was in when I fell, but I don’t think I sat down and I didn’t land on my hands, so it must have been mostly on my legs/ankles/feet. I know this because I was wearing a knee-length skirt and I know I didn’t flash anyone.
It took me a moment to register that I’d fallen and that my ankle was hurting. Then I realized that even though at the time there were no cars, I was definitely in the line of traffic, so I shoved all my things into my shopping bag and hoisted myself up. The curb was a couple of feet away so I managed to get myself back onto the sidewalk, then I leaned against a convenient fat light pole while I came back into myself. I felt my ankle swelling up. Mentally I ran through my options in case I couldn’t walk home for a while: sit there on the sidewalk and pretend to be nonchalant. Read Edward Said’s Orientalism, the only book I had on me. I was thirsty and wearing a skirt, so maybe hobble across the street to a cafe and sit there for a while? Then the swelling feeling began to fade a little. I flexed and rotated my ankle and tried it out and decided I could make the two blocks it would take to get me home.
It’s a good thing I was able to get myself home because no one around me offered any help, or even asked if I was okay. One man looked at me sympathetically but said not a word, making me wonder if he even speaks English. It’s funny because I run into a lot of nice people walking around Berkeley, and the last time it rained I saw someone slip and land on her rear and there were people making sure she was all right. So I think I just happened to be in a particularly uncaring crowd. When I did get across the street, anyway, a man sitting on a crate in front of Amoeba asked me if I was all right. It was reassuring to know someone cared enough to ask. Actually I think this particular man has lifted my spirits before-last year when I almost got run over by a car and was just having a really bad day I ran into him and talking to him a little made me feel better. I think he’s the person who goes by Jokémon. I should take him to lunch sometime.
currently: elevating my ankle (yes, I iced it too) and feeling anxious about it
[This post was imported on 4/10/14 from my old blog at satsumabug.livejournal.com.]