In one of the noisiest places in Saugatuck, last night you could hear a pin drop.
For what seemed an eternity to me, (it was only a minute or two) Phil's was completely quiet.
After a lovely night out and dinner celebrating our empty-again nest, I tried to get off my stool at our table, (note the operative word here is 'tried') I could sense things weren't going to end well as they began falling apart. That hardwood stool, the one next to it and me and my hard head all crashed loudly to the hardwood floor. It was loud enough to silence an entire, noisy restaurant. While laying on the floor, I saw many pairs of shoes and boots (there was a pair of tan leather boots that I particularly liked) gather round and I heard many people;
"Oh, my gosh, are you okay?"
"Did she pass out?" (that one to John)
"Can I help you up?"
"What can I do?"
I wanted to crawl on my hands and knees to the door - because while my head hurt a little, my pride hurt a lot. I did not want to have to stand up to face the many people in that packed restaurant. And I thought the Bible verse was the 'pride goeth before the fall' because my pride was wounded but very much present. It didn't go anywhere!
It was silent until I stood, and all could see that I appeared unscathed. And then slowly the talking continued. And then I started to apologize to John, to our sweet waitress, to the woman on the stool behind me that I think I grabbed on the way down, to the strangers who'd come to John's aid in getting me up, to the bartender (a man we've known since moving to Saugatuck) and then to every person that made eye contact with me on the way out. My apologies were for scaring them, or disrupting the restaurant, or grabbing them (the woman behind me) or for being a less than easy date (to John).
As I told John on the way home, I do not like being the center of attention unless I want to be the center of attention. I don't want to fear going out anymore than I already do and the incident last night will only add to that fear unless I find a way to nip it in the bud. I want to be an example of living positively with MS but if I continue to have experiences like last night, it'll be even more challenging.
When we got home, my head was hurting a lot more and so I took 4 ibuprofen and cuddled on the couch with my worried hubby.
I saw an ad this morning for a tshirt that read "I'm not drunk, I have MS" and thought I could go back to Phil's next Saturday wearing that shirt and helmet - making light of those moments of silence and my embarrassment. John said that would be an even greater embarrassment for me and that in all likelihood, everyone else has already forgotten.
He's probably right. And I hope by next Saturday, this Saturday will seem like a distant memory.
For what seemed an eternity to me, (it was only a minute or two) Phil's was completely quiet.
After a lovely night out and dinner celebrating our empty-again nest, I tried to get off my stool at our table, (note the operative word here is 'tried') I could sense things weren't going to end well as they began falling apart. That hardwood stool, the one next to it and me and my hard head all crashed loudly to the hardwood floor. It was loud enough to silence an entire, noisy restaurant. While laying on the floor, I saw many pairs of shoes and boots (there was a pair of tan leather boots that I particularly liked) gather round and I heard many people;
"Oh, my gosh, are you okay?"
"Did she pass out?" (that one to John)
"Can I help you up?"
"What can I do?"
I wanted to crawl on my hands and knees to the door - because while my head hurt a little, my pride hurt a lot. I did not want to have to stand up to face the many people in that packed restaurant. And I thought the Bible verse was the 'pride goeth before the fall' because my pride was wounded but very much present. It didn't go anywhere!
It was silent until I stood, and all could see that I appeared unscathed. And then slowly the talking continued. And then I started to apologize to John, to our sweet waitress, to the woman on the stool behind me that I think I grabbed on the way down, to the strangers who'd come to John's aid in getting me up, to the bartender (a man we've known since moving to Saugatuck) and then to every person that made eye contact with me on the way out. My apologies were for scaring them, or disrupting the restaurant, or grabbing them (the woman behind me) or for being a less than easy date (to John).
As I told John on the way home, I do not like being the center of attention unless I want to be the center of attention. I don't want to fear going out anymore than I already do and the incident last night will only add to that fear unless I find a way to nip it in the bud. I want to be an example of living positively with MS but if I continue to have experiences like last night, it'll be even more challenging.
When we got home, my head was hurting a lot more and so I took 4 ibuprofen and cuddled on the couch with my worried hubby.
I saw an ad this morning for a tshirt that read "I'm not drunk, I have MS" and thought I could go back to Phil's next Saturday wearing that shirt and helmet - making light of those moments of silence and my embarrassment. John said that would be an even greater embarrassment for me and that in all likelihood, everyone else has already forgotten.
He's probably right. And I hope by next Saturday, this Saturday will seem like a distant memory.
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