On Monday, I got back to the grind (meaning, my everyday schedule, which can be a bit grind-some sometimes, but not always) and walked the greenway. About a third of a mile in, a woman came jogging toward me from the opposite end of the greenway and relievedly asked me if I had a phone.
I do carry a phone while walking. Hard-core exercise buffs probably say that’s foolishness.
I pulled it out, and she asked if I could call 911. (!?)
Believe it or not, in my sheltered, safe existence, I have never had to make that call before. I barely even know how. The numbers are obvious, but then all those questions…?
Anyway, I did, as we both took off running back to where this other woman had come from, she all the while telling me, between gasps, that a woman had taken a fall on her bicycle and was flat out on her back somewhere here.
Sure enough, there she was – a middle-aged woman with bruising and an abrasion on her knee, dirt smudged all over her blue T-shirt and white capris, laying next to her bicycle. She was lucidly talking, checking body parts for functionality and pain, and telling us her address, her husband’s phone number, and the last four digits of her social security number. Granted, she kept repeating those facts…over and over again. That was a bit odd, and made me think maybe she had hit her head a little too hard.
I explained to the man on the phone where we were, and before long, capable-looking medics came trundling down the greenway, stretcher in tow. They took care of the victim.
It’s little occurrences like these that remind us just how big and small the world is. I don’t know where this woman is now – perhaps recovering in a hospital, or jumping back on her bike to take her next ride by now – the world is big. But isn’t it a tribute to the smallness of the world that her very personal bike accident has become a story on someone else’s blog?