Last night after work I was walking down East 78th Street on my way to exercise therapy. There might have been a break in the sidewalk or I may have been distracted by a passerby or the flowers surrounding the tree. More likely I veered to avoid walking into someone and lost my balance, falling over the metal edge of the box holding flowers around a tree. Down I went into the flowers. There I was, practically face down on East 78th Street. My hand flew out and I landed on my right side.
The actual site of my fall is more tree lined and there were many more people on the side walk.
These metal edgings are on almost every residential street in Manhattan.
Before I could even try to get myself up two people ran over to me. One was a woman walking down the street and the other was the doorman of the building near the tree. They helped me up and asked how I was feeling and if I needed any more assistance. My hand felt stiff and my leg hurt, but I wasn't bleeding and I could move my fingers. I decided to skip exercise and made my way home for an evening with an ice pack.
I'm a little sore today, but have only a faint purple bruise on my thigh. No twisted ankle, no broken bones! I'm very grateful for my well-being -- thanks to my mother's urging to drink milk and the tons of Vitamin D I've been taking -- and the kindness of strangers. Most people don't think of New York as a kind place, but I've found New Yorkers to be kind and thoughtful, even willing to pull a stranger out of a flower bed.