In Search of Lost Memories Instead of Time

Max and I take our dogs, Paco and Anka, to the Santa Fe Dog Park every morning. It’s acres of arroyos and mesas spotted with piñon/juniper that the city converted from a dump to an icon. For me, a lifelong rural dweller whose dogs are used to entering and exiting the house via a dog door to run free, it’s a godsend. We complained that it was too hot this summer—had to get there before 8 am—and now that it’s winter we complain it’s too cold at 7 because the dogs are still on Daylight Savings time. Exactly two weeks ago we were walking back to the car from our morning walk when suddenly I found myself in the car with Max telling me he was taking me to Urgent Care. I asked why and he told me he just found me lying on the ground, mumbling incoherently. He’d been walking ahead of me but heard me moaning and saying that I’d tripped over Anka. I don’t remember falling. I don’t remember telling him I tripped over Anka. I don’t remember walking to the car.

The Urgent Care was closed so he took me to St. Vincent’s Hospital Emergency Room. I remember him telling me where we were going but I don’t remember walking in or being admitted. I do remember telling the nurse or doctor or whoever it was in the room with me that I needed to pee. I don't remember if I walked to the bathroom by myself or they wheeled me there.

Back in the room they took some blood, gave me an EKG to check my heart, and then took me somewhere for a CT scan, to check for an internal head bleed, which was negative. Back in the room again the doctor came in and said I probably had a minor concussion but he was giving me a prescription for a urinary track infection. I asked him, perplexed, if they could tell I had a UTI from blood work and he said no, you gave us a urine sample.

Now, of all the things I don't remember, this is definitely the weirdest. As any woman knows, peeing into a cup for a urine sample is not easy. You’ve got it get it right under the hole or you get it all over your hand or lose it all into the toilet. How in the world was I able to pee in the cup and give it to someone while non-compos mentis? And just as weird, as someone with a long history of UTI’s, I had no idea I had one because I had no symptoms.

So they sent me home with antibiotics and a very muddled mind. I never recovered those lost memories, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Apparently before I fell and hit my head I fell on my side and either bruised or broke a rib. It’s under my right breast and tender to the touch. It hurts like hell when I lean over, try to lift anything, cough, sneeze, or breathe deeply. And despite all this pain, I stupidly went to El Valle a week after the accident to visit my friend and housesitter Marlys and load a bunch of wood into my car to bring down for the rental fireplace.

Now I’m in such pain that when I go to bed I have to lie all night on my right side because if I lie on the left the rib sags and hurts even more. A doctor friend told me it usually takes six weeks to heal a damaged rib. Another friend told me to try the Kinesio taping that athletes use for injuries. So I abrogated my Amazon boycott and allowed Max to order it from Prime because I couldn’t find any in stock in Santa Fe. Pain often skews your moral compass. I probably wouldn’t last long under torture. And I REALLY hope it doesn't take six weeks to heal because I REALLY want to go skiing as soon as we're blessed with a little more snow.I have to assume it will come or I'll go crazy. It's been a tough year for all of us.