I was just reminded of how things can change in the blink of an eye.
The first time this happened to me, I was in San Francisco on a beautiful January day. This was years ago when MacWorld took over the entire city for a week. I was in Union Square, and I decided to cross Post street to visit a hot dog stand.
I was in the crosswalk and had a green light. About halfway through, a taxicab decided to turn in my direction. In fact, he was coming right at me. He accelerated. I dove out of the way and landed on my left shoulder. I immediately knew something was very wrong. I later found out that I had broke my scapula.
That week changed in a San Francisco minute. I tied a belt around my left arm so I could secure it to my body. Otherwise, walking was unbearable. I found an urgent care center. Two hours later, a doctor saw me.
Believe it or not, I didn't leave the city after treatment. I stayed for the show, high as a kite on OxyContin. I don't remember much from those few days.
The other night I came home after speaking at a user group. I took off my shoes at the front door and headed to the kitchen in my stocking feet. I was thirsty and hungry.
The wood floor had just been waxed, and my socks were very slippery. When I stepped off the rug on to the kitchen floor, my feet went straight up in the air. It was like I was on ice. This time I landed squarely on my right shoulder.
"Here I go again."
The good news is, this time I had family to help me to the emergency room. The pain was just as intense, but I wasn't alone on a street in San Francisco.
The other good news… my right shoulder is dislocated, Not broken. I should be OK in a couple weeks.
Interestingly enough, both incidents were initiated by my desire for something to eat.
Of all the crazy things I do, it turns out that the quest for nutrition has been the most dangerous.