Saturday, June 21, 2014

Me and Harrison Ford

Notice how I mentioned ‘me’ before ‘Harrison Ford’? That’s because I was first. That’s right. I was FIRST.

Yet, I was one-upped by the great actor.


Let me explain....

So I was hustling along, minding my own business as I do, when just outside McDonald’s right smack in the middle of downtown Victoria, BC, I fell. Like right-down-on-my-hands-and-knees, fell. I stepped on something, something unstable and trippy, and my ankle buckled and twisted. I lost my balance, crashed down on all fours, my bags flying out into the middle of the road (I wasn’t ‘trippy,’ myself, in case you were wondering) (sheesh).

I remember seeing a lady bug on the ground when I was down like a dog.

It hurt like a YOU KNOW WHAT yet I managed to stand up, take a few limpy, gimpy steps, and tried not to faint and throw-up at the pain and shock of it all. Within minutes my ankle swelled up bigger than a grapefruit, and my scraped knee bled all over the place (okay, so I’m exaggerating, but it WAS pretty bad). My panty hose did nothing to protect my delicate skin against the harsh pavement.

That’s right – panty hose. And you know what that means, right?

Well, as luck would have it, I was wearing a dress and it was kind of short (save the wolf whistles) and, as I said above, I was outside McDonald’s right smack in the middle of lovely downtown Victoria. That particular fast food eatery has window seats – a long bench along the windows where folks can snarf down their grease and people-watch.

So needless to say, they got a show that day – if you know what I mean. Like a BIG SHOW.

So I limped back to work and seeing as my grapefruit was not getting smaller and my panty hose were sticking to my pulsating, bleeding knee, I knew it was time to call it a day and hit-up the kind folks at the hospital’s emergency room for a little TLC.

The x-rays came back showing that my bones were gorgeous (what can I say) and nothing was out of sorts in that respect. I did, however, tear all the ligaments and tendons in my ankle and would be off work for a week with a 6 – 8 week recovery. It wasn’t a sprain, but ‘one up from sprain’ said the kind doctor: I had done a ‘doozy of a job’ on my ankle. I was given a tensor bandage, some fun little pills (LOVE THOSE!) and advice to use crutches (not possible with my already compromised multi-hernia-repaired stomach).

So I hobbled home, smiled a goofy, fond smile to anyone and everyone I passed (like I said, I LOVE THOSE PILLS), and tried not to get frost-bite on my ankle from all the ice I had to pack on it.

Fast forward a few days and my ankle, foot, toes and half of my calf is a canvas of colours: eggplant, mouldy grapefruit, beet and the burgundy leaves of a Japanese maple tree. I was one hot momma.

During my recovery I would admire my colourful ankle/foot/leg while writing up a storm. It was hard to concentrate, however, what with worrying about getting more pantyhose being forefront on my mind.

Writing while on a computer often involves some ‘net surfing.’ One day during my convalescence I almost fell out of my chair (not a good idea) when I found some ‘breaking news.’ Before I go on, I want to reiterate that I take NO GLEE in anyone else’s pain and suffering, whatsoever.

Harrison Ford, the actor extraordinaire who stole my heart when I was a wee lass when he played the strapping Han Solo in Star Wars Episode IV back in 1970-something, had been rushed to hospital after sustaining an ankle/leg injury on the set of filming the current Star Wars movie (Episode VII) being filmed in the UK.

Unfortunately, a door on the Millennium Falcon fell open and landed on his ankle, crushing it – OUCH! It turns out the poor guy (and I am sincere in my sympathies) broke his leg and required metal plates in his leg. It’ll be a few months before he can go back to work.

Where he has a broken bone or two, I have torn ligaments, tendons, or whatever they are called. Where he was airlifted to a hospital, I had to stumble back to work through the streets of downtown Victoria, trying not to puke. Where I was savouring whatever sympathy I could get from those around me, he made headlines. (As of this writing it’s been over two weeks since the poor man’s accident and he’s STILL in the news!)

But oh how I wish we could compare horror stories. Oh how I wish we could compare bruises. I would loan him my mop I used to get up and down the stairs. I would loan him my ice pack and share the funny little pills I LOVE SO MUCH. We could sit on the couch, our ankles elevated, and watch Star Wars in high-def, shoving popcorn in our faces faster than we can knock back vodka shots (always fun with the funny little pills I LOVE SO MUCH).

Where he can say he was injured outside the Millennium Falcon, I can only hang my head and mutter “I was outside McDonald’s.” It’s not his fault a door fell on him. And it’s not my fault I can’t walk properly.

But no matter who has it better or worse, at least we can say we both have our health – as it were.

But I’m still choked he was airlifted by helicopter and I wasn’t.

Maybe, however, despite him making all the headlines he did, along with the helicopter ride and extra attention, maybe I didn't have it so bad, after all. At least I can skip - now, at least, however unattractively, however - to the movie theatres.

Harrison, I hope you feel better soon. While you’re lounging around, gimme a call – we can wallow in our suffering together and share stories about our adventures while comparing bruises.

Come on, call me – it won’t hurt one bit.

(News is always changing, but here is the latest from the Toronto Sun on Mr. Ford's condition)

Thanks for reading!

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