Open Writing

It's over two months and I can still feel it on my forehead over my right eye. It doesn't hurt anymore, just a little hard lump, which I hope will eventually go away. But the experience of this unwanted acquisition will stay with me for a long time.

I was meeting a friend for lunch at one of the downtown restaurants on that day. Quite an ordinary activity in a familiar location. Nothing to unduly tax my impaired vision. This time, however, I entered the building from a different set of doors, coming as I did from another direction.

I quickly realized I was not where I expected to be. Looking ahead, I could see the entrance to the restaurant straight in front of me. Without thinking, I walked towards it, only to crash headlong into an unmarked glass partition! I literally lost a moment of my life, so stunned I was. Yes, I did see stars. My head throbbed with pain. I felt nauseous and dizzy. I could feel a goose egg starting to develop above my right eye.

My instinct was to get far away from that place. Fast. But the receptionist at the desk behind me came around and insisted that I remain where I was until he had collected the information that he needed to complete a record of the incident. I needed an ice-pack to control the swelling. No, that would have to wait until he had asked me all the required questions. I was getting desperate. I needed to at least sit down.

Staggering towards the lounge not far away, I found a chair in a far corner, hoping to avoid the stares of passersby. The receptionist indicated that the building's security representative was on his way. He would get me an ice-pack.

I waited for over twenty-minutes, but no such person materialized. On inquiry, I was told that it being the noon hour, he was not available. By then I was really angry, but my head ached when I tried to get up. I waited some more.

Finally, a young man carrying a huge black binder loped towards me. No ice-pack for my bulging bump. Instead he announced quite importantly that he had just finished his emergency training, and he knew all the right questions to ask. I felt like screaming, but I had the presence of mind to know that wouldn't help. I resorted to my yoga breathing and finally calmed down. I watched him leaf through his binder, murmuring to reassure himself that he was following all the required steps.

Another incident record completed, we would now go visit the medical clinic on the lower floor. The cooling vision of an ice-pack kept me hopeful. But the elevator would not appear. It's the lunch hour. I did not realize elevators do go out for lunches. Finally we took the stairs. That was quite a challenge.

Some more waiting. Thankfully, when I did get into the doctor's office, a kindly nurse produced the longed-for ice-pack. It helped reduce the torment of waiting for the doctor to show up. Of course, there were more forms and reports to complete.

By then, I really didn't care. I just wanted to go home. When the doctor did appear, he was concerned that I had suffered a concussion because of my dilated pupils. He wanted to cart me off to the hospital by ambulance. I had to go to great lengths to explain to him that this was a pre-existing medical condition. Now I know why I should always wear my medical alert bracelet.

I finally escaped with the ice-pack and took a cab home.

Thinking about the incident, I realize how important procedures have become. Procedures to avoid litigation. To avoid taking responsibility. The victim's needs have become secondary. Perhaps if I had split my head open and was spewing blood all over the place, the response would be different.

My friends suggested that I sue. But since the injury was more traumatic than physical, I contented myself with a formal complaint against the unmarked partition. And as for my lunch date, my friend wryly commented: 'the lengths some people will go to avoid having lunch with me!'

© Lytrice Adams

Lytrice writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au