You may recall that when I went to AERA and shared a session with the wonderful, dynamic Helen Gym, she managed to pick her way carefully through the crowd that lined the wall of the room, while I managed to trip over someone’s foot and fell flat on my face. No harm done, the room was carpeted, and I landed gracefully in such a fashion that I was unhurt, indeed bounced up and proceeded to the podium.

 

Well, it turns out that the fall in Philadelphia was merely practice for what happened two days later. On Saturday morning, I packed the car and drove from Brooklyn to Long Island for what I expected would be a quiet weekend. My dear partner was away for the weekend. I dropped the dog at Doggie Daycare (she is a 60-pound critter and she loves to run with playmates), then proceeded to the abode by the sea. I took the cat inside, then went to the car, thinking I would go for the mail and supplies. But something happened, I don’t know what. I tripped, landed on my left knee and couldn’t get up. I felt a snap inside my leg. There was no carpet, there was stone. At first I thought the pain would go away if I just lay there for a few minutes, but when I tried to get up, I couldn’t stand. So I dragged myself on my back up the steps and into the house, reached up to the phone and called a neighbor. She called emergency services, and within 10 minutes, there was an ambulance, a police car, and assorted other vehicles in the driveway. Literally 15 people were there to help me, and I was grateful for their kind and efficient care. I was taken away by the volunteer fire department ambulance to the local hospital in Greenport, where the doctor did an x-ray and told me I had no broken bones. As soon as he heard what happened, my son took the bus from Brooklyn so that he could take care of me and bring me home. Today, I saw a knee specialist at the Hospital for Special Surgery in NYC, who told me I had torn my ACL, which seems to be a very valuable ligament in the knee. He told me that I did not need surgery but my basketball career was over (sorry, Arne).

 

The good news is that I am alive and well. I am fortunate to have friends and family who are kind and caring.

 

I will be in Louisville, Kentucky, next week to accept the Grawemeyer award.

 

What’s the moral of the story? Be careful. Slow down. Type faster. Walk slower. Watch your step. Try not to multi-task. Live in the moment.

 

I will try to remember the moral of the story.