Reasons not to ride your bicycle

The medication I was taking when I was ill was codeine based, with a warning not to operate heavy machinery.

no-bike-ridingWhether or not I ride my bicycle to work, or to church, or around the neighborhood, depends on a number of factors that you can imagine: too cold, too rainy, too slippery.

However, as spring arrived, I had some situations that I had not experienced before. I should note that my bike resides in the shed in the back of the property.

  • The walkway was a sheet of ice in the alleyway that separates our house and the next door neighbor’s. I managed NOT to fall down all winter, compared with the two spills I suffered the previous year, and I didn’t want to chance anything.
  • The ground was frozen around the gate between the backyard and the alleyway, and I just couldn’t open it. It had rained heavily, then got very cold.

  • The medication I was taking when I was ill was codeine based, with a warning not to operate heavy machinery. I was loopy enough that I decided not to operate light machinery either.

  • There was a skunk in the backyard, near the back porch, sniffing and burrowing. Nah…

Then there was the time I probably SHOULDN’T have ridden. I was feeding one of the cats at one of the dishes to the right of the refrigerator, as usual. I stood up and banged my head on the footing of the folded up ironing board. Those of you who think I do not curse would have been proven wrong that morning.

I was seeing stars, and had developed a huge lump; to boot, my head was bleeding. Somehow, I lost about 20 minutes, which made me late for work. So I hopped on my bike and rode about four blocks before I realized I was unfocused and needed to stop. Fortunately, a CDTA bus came by. I put the bike on the conveyance and continued to the office.

It wasn’t until I got home that night that I realized that I had cut my head on the jagged footing. My wife and daughter insisted that the ironing board has ALWAYS been there, to the right of the refrigerator. I wouldn’t know since I never use it. That’s why God invented permanent press. But the cat dish must have been further to the left.

There is a photo of me at work, with a used Rite-Aid bag full of ice, covered by a couple more plastic layers, on my head. The bags were held in place by my headphones. It is a stupid-looking picture.

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