a quiet affection
one moment's reflection
a thought before you sleep
a call when you wake
a smile on your face
a spring when you step
a step when you see
a glow when you leave
an urge that you keep
a spark when we touch
a surge when we love
a love that we keep
while awake or asleep
when spring comes to step
and sees that you glow
the spark warms the touch
and the smile on your face
it's the love that awakes
from the sleep that was slept
a quiet affection you gave and i kept
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
seduction by coffee
Life lesson time. I spent about 4 hours in the emergency ward at St Mikes on that gorgeously sunny Saturday afternoon after making a poor decision to try riding a skateboard at 3 in the morning (completely sober I may add) and since the last skateboard I tried was less flexible than this longboard I was trying, I bailed big time on the hard sidewalk of mcgill street.
There were no cool ollies, I wasn't doing rails, no flips in the air, no glamour, no glitz, just me falling towards the ground, and hitting my weight on the top of my left foot and left hip. Bruising and becs seem to go together very well, so the welt from that fall is a beauty on the hip, but owing to the hippy nature of the Lofthouse/Webster heritage I have thankfully enherited, just the bruised tissue is there from that.
My foot however, was not as lucky. About thirty minutes later, a formation looking like a second ankle sprung up and teatowels and ice had to be found to calm the imminent disaster. Ryan helped me up the stairs, created a pillowlike structure for me to elevate and sleep and that was that... until the morning when I was like a newborn bunny; hopping around tentatively.
Without aids, I was pretty useless at getting around, so after more icing, elevation and a tensor bandage, we ventured to the emerg at St. Mikes. I was admitted quite quickly, although the waits in between were what made it a long afternoon diversion. I managed to watch a western in the fast-track waiting room. The foot was duly xrayed and proclaimed 'unbroken' but severely damaged tendons and ligaments, so it was splinted and tensor bandaged and I left with a new leg accesory for the world to see.
I must admit I didn't take the news well that this little fall would take me out for 4-6 weeks until fully healed. I'm supposed to traipse the cobblestone streets of the south of France in a week and a half and my movement isn't great on crutches.
BUT, I'm not complaining anymore. This is tedious but what completely reversed my life was the patient I met when I burst into tears about the tediousness of my injury...
She'd been hit by a streetcar last week. HIT, as a PEDESTRIAN by a STREETCAR. How terrifying. Now the doctors had said she was lucky because she hadn't broken anything. I remember the same thing was said to me when I got hit by a car as a pedestrian eight years ago while living in London, England. I also remember all the stuff noone told me. I was so emotional after that crash. I could barely cross roads I was so terrified, loud noises scared me and I was so bruised that I could barely leave the couch. But I in no way had as hard a time as this girl. She'd suffered a concussion in the accident and it had removed her sense of smell and some taste. She was bemoaning her fate... saying she had lost her appetite to eat because everything was bland and that the thing she missed the most was coffee... she loved the smell of coffee and the experience, the warmth, and all that was left was a bitter taste and she could just barely get some of the sweetness of sugar.
Life lesson? Most certainly. My physical injury will be healed in some weeks, I'll adapt to being less mobile in the time being but I'm going to keep her in mind. Looking back, I wish I'd given her a hug or something, I can't begin to understand, but she wasn't there with anyone, and I think she could've used the support. Keeping her in my thoughts.
There were no cool ollies, I wasn't doing rails, no flips in the air, no glamour, no glitz, just me falling towards the ground, and hitting my weight on the top of my left foot and left hip. Bruising and becs seem to go together very well, so the welt from that fall is a beauty on the hip, but owing to the hippy nature of the Lofthouse/Webster heritage I have thankfully enherited, just the bruised tissue is there from that.
My foot however, was not as lucky. About thirty minutes later, a formation looking like a second ankle sprung up and teatowels and ice had to be found to calm the imminent disaster. Ryan helped me up the stairs, created a pillowlike structure for me to elevate and sleep and that was that... until the morning when I was like a newborn bunny; hopping around tentatively.
Without aids, I was pretty useless at getting around, so after more icing, elevation and a tensor bandage, we ventured to the emerg at St. Mikes. I was admitted quite quickly, although the waits in between were what made it a long afternoon diversion. I managed to watch a western in the fast-track waiting room. The foot was duly xrayed and proclaimed 'unbroken' but severely damaged tendons and ligaments, so it was splinted and tensor bandaged and I left with a new leg accesory for the world to see.
I must admit I didn't take the news well that this little fall would take me out for 4-6 weeks until fully healed. I'm supposed to traipse the cobblestone streets of the south of France in a week and a half and my movement isn't great on crutches.
BUT, I'm not complaining anymore. This is tedious but what completely reversed my life was the patient I met when I burst into tears about the tediousness of my injury...
She'd been hit by a streetcar last week. HIT, as a PEDESTRIAN by a STREETCAR. How terrifying. Now the doctors had said she was lucky because she hadn't broken anything. I remember the same thing was said to me when I got hit by a car as a pedestrian eight years ago while living in London, England. I also remember all the stuff noone told me. I was so emotional after that crash. I could barely cross roads I was so terrified, loud noises scared me and I was so bruised that I could barely leave the couch. But I in no way had as hard a time as this girl. She'd suffered a concussion in the accident and it had removed her sense of smell and some taste. She was bemoaning her fate... saying she had lost her appetite to eat because everything was bland and that the thing she missed the most was coffee... she loved the smell of coffee and the experience, the warmth, and all that was left was a bitter taste and she could just barely get some of the sweetness of sugar.
Life lesson? Most certainly. My physical injury will be healed in some weeks, I'll adapt to being less mobile in the time being but I'm going to keep her in mind. Looking back, I wish I'd given her a hug or something, I can't begin to understand, but she wasn't there with anyone, and I think she could've used the support. Keeping her in my thoughts.
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