Grace has never been one of my characteristics - physical grace that is. So when multiple sclerosis made me even klutzier, I should have been able to mentally handle the number of falls.
After all, I've been tripping for years and have usually managed to maintain my sense of humor.
One particular occasion had me nearly running into a corporate conference room for an important sales presentation and tripping over the carpet ledge; all the materials in my arms went flying - scattering across the conference table and landing nearly perfectly in front of the six executives waiting around the table. A little curtsy and a comical "Ta-Dah" and the tension was quickly broken. If I remember correctly, I landed the sizeable sale and the client often referred back to my entrance as a great sales ploy!
Today, however, I found it difficult to laugh after landing once again on my knees. In front of the same exact restaurant/bar that I had tripped in front of the previous week. I thought I was paying attention to where I was walking and the constant mantra "Don't trip, don't trip" played in my head. Didn't seem to matter. Down I went for the second time today. I couldn't smile or even pretend to be anything but embarrassed. There wasn't anyone around that I could see, but this I know - it doesn't matter because in my mind there were several witnesses to the fall.
And here's the rub - I shouldn't care what others think, but I do. I wonder if these imaginary witnesses are imagining that I've consumed a few too many cocktails and they're too embarrassed to acknowledge that they saw me go down. That's what I think each and every time I trip and fall in public. It's hard to have a sunny disposition when you're frequently falling down.
I know that one of the reasons I fell both times today was my mind was elsewhere. I wasn't paying attention. There has been a lot on my plate lately and I have had a particulary emotional day - so instead of concentrating on each step I was thinking instead of these other emotional issues. So when I fell, I was already at wit's end - there was no humor from which to draw. Instead this afternoon, when I made it safely back to my car - I cried. A cathartic cry. And then I called my sister who also has MS and seems to understand better than anyone what it's like to be head over heels.
Tomorrow, as Scarlett O'Hara said so well, is another day.
After all, I've been tripping for years and have usually managed to maintain my sense of humor.
One particular occasion had me nearly running into a corporate conference room for an important sales presentation and tripping over the carpet ledge; all the materials in my arms went flying - scattering across the conference table and landing nearly perfectly in front of the six executives waiting around the table. A little curtsy and a comical "Ta-Dah" and the tension was quickly broken. If I remember correctly, I landed the sizeable sale and the client often referred back to my entrance as a great sales ploy!
Today, however, I found it difficult to laugh after landing once again on my knees. In front of the same exact restaurant/bar that I had tripped in front of the previous week. I thought I was paying attention to where I was walking and the constant mantra "Don't trip, don't trip" played in my head. Didn't seem to matter. Down I went for the second time today. I couldn't smile or even pretend to be anything but embarrassed. There wasn't anyone around that I could see, but this I know - it doesn't matter because in my mind there were several witnesses to the fall.
And here's the rub - I shouldn't care what others think, but I do. I wonder if these imaginary witnesses are imagining that I've consumed a few too many cocktails and they're too embarrassed to acknowledge that they saw me go down. That's what I think each and every time I trip and fall in public. It's hard to have a sunny disposition when you're frequently falling down.
I know that one of the reasons I fell both times today was my mind was elsewhere. I wasn't paying attention. There has been a lot on my plate lately and I have had a particulary emotional day - so instead of concentrating on each step I was thinking instead of these other emotional issues. So when I fell, I was already at wit's end - there was no humor from which to draw. Instead this afternoon, when I made it safely back to my car - I cried. A cathartic cry. And then I called my sister who also has MS and seems to understand better than anyone what it's like to be head over heels.
Tomorrow, as Scarlett O'Hara said so well, is another day.
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