Oh YES, I am aware that I brought this on myself. First, I repeated that story about going helmet shopping with my sister (and ended up with a little umbrella on a hat-stick). You’re probably thinking that the ghost of 1970’s feminism is what cursed me over the weekend, but in fact it was Rilke. I was typing in a comment and called out to J., “Can I blaspheme a Rilke poem in the comments section of my blog?” He said he didn’t see why not, and then things went in this order: I finished typing, I yelled, “I did it!” One minute passed, J. heard a terrible sound, a sound he refuses to describe in greater detail (for the best), minutes passed. Imagine how confused you would be if you were, in one minute, sitting at your desk blaspheming Rilke and some time later you found yourself on the floor, being told not to be frightened, an ambulance was on the way? Don’t be FRIGHTENED? Also? I was a 100% amnesiac, just like in a soap opera. I couldn’t remember anything until I was told it. There are some things I’m still unclear about, but one thing I’m quite sure of is that helmets are indeed our best friends, after badgers. You will see from the photograph that I’m surrounded by loved ones in this picture: My badger Milton, my helmet, my bicycle. I don’t ride the bicycle, it’s art.
Thank you all for your kindness and your loving concern. I was treated extraordinarily well in the Durham Regional ER and by all the doctors and nurses there. Scott flew to the hospital to be with me. I’ve only recently discovered that he also ate an apple on the trip, which – HELLO – that seems like a choking hazard. The Daughter dropped everything to come stay with Baby Augusten all day so John could be at the hospital. His truck has a stick-shift; I hope he didn’t eat anything on the way over. Thank you, too, to everyone who e-mailed or called. You are all dear to me.