On the 20th (which would have been my mother's 101st birthday), one of the members of the DREAM TEAM from France - Michel Jean Gamet, had noticed that I was favoring my right leg and came to chat with me. He asked if I would like to borrow a knee compression bandage to maybe help strengthen my knee, and to reduce the stress from it. I accepted his generous offer and on the morning of the 21st (my daughter's birthday) I pulled on the compression bandage up over my right knee and then continued to get dressed. Although it was considerably earlier than most of the other members of the Team were up and about, I decided to go outside my tent and have a look around. Big mistake. BIG Mistake!
When leaving my tent, I first tripped over the "threshold" at the entrance, began falling forward, tripped on a tree root which had poked itself up through the indoor-outdoor carpeting in front of my tent, went to grab the tent pole and slipped off of that (because of the early morning dew) and propelled forward (kind of like the Roadrunner cartoon character, where his legs are fiercely moving in a fast-forward circular motion, to the point of being a blur) and succeeded in surging forward about forty or fifty feet and SPLATTING on the wet, slippery ground, crashing down on my right knee cap! This was NOT a pretty sight. As I lay there helpless, I seriously felt I had smashed my patella, and was worried that I would not be able to work.
Sanjay, the owner of the tents, happened to be out walking around the site, and saw me splatter on the ground. He and another man came over to me and very carefully lifted me to my feet, which at best were shaking and not conducive to standing. They propped me up for a few moments and then the three of us walked back over to my tent, where I sat down outside. If only I FELT like a football star being helped off the field by the coach and trainer, but no such luck. I hurt badly and just felt plain stupid for tripping like I had. Good thing I had put on that compression bandage, right?
A little while later, I limped over to the dining tent and had my breakfast with the rest of the members of the Team. Although Sanjiv (my counterpart in India and the trip organizer) urged me to return to my tent and rest for the day, I insisted that nothing could get done unless I was a part of the group working, so I respectfully declined. Once I hobbled over to the work site, I realized that I could stand pretty well and pass (toss) basins of masala, as long as I stood with my right leg bent a slight bit, and I could take the pressure off my knee.
"Ice?" you say? Nothing could be further from reality. We barely had cool water, to say nothing of ice for an ice pack to keep the swelling down. I was strictly dependent upon the compression bandage and decided not to remove it until the very last day, hoping beyond hope that there was no permanent damage and that the swelling was kept to a minimum.
Another of the very hard, diligent, stoic workers (from the hired crew) was a man who carried huge rocks on his head, and then dumped them (tossed them off his head forward) into the pit where we were working. How thankful I was that I was not carrying this weight on MY head! Sometimes THREE men had to lift the boulder onto his head before he moved to carry it to the pit. As one of my team members said about him, "He just continues to smile, and perhaps is thinking to himself that maybe, just maybe this will be the last big rock he is asked to carry!"
When leaving my tent, I first tripped over the "threshold" at the entrance, began falling forward, tripped on a tree root which had poked itself up through the indoor-outdoor carpeting in front of my tent, went to grab the tent pole and slipped off of that (because of the early morning dew) and propelled forward (kind of like the Roadrunner cartoon character, where his legs are fiercely moving in a fast-forward circular motion, to the point of being a blur) and succeeded in surging forward about forty or fifty feet and SPLATTING on the wet, slippery ground, crashing down on my right knee cap! This was NOT a pretty sight. As I lay there helpless, I seriously felt I had smashed my patella, and was worried that I would not be able to work.
Sanjay, the owner of the tents, happened to be out walking around the site, and saw me splatter on the ground. He and another man came over to me and very carefully lifted me to my feet, which at best were shaking and not conducive to standing. They propped me up for a few moments and then the three of us walked back over to my tent, where I sat down outside. If only I FELT like a football star being helped off the field by the coach and trainer, but no such luck. I hurt badly and just felt plain stupid for tripping like I had. Good thing I had put on that compression bandage, right?
"Ice?" you say? Nothing could be further from reality. We barely had cool water, to say nothing of ice for an ice pack to keep the swelling down. I was strictly dependent upon the compression bandage and decided not to remove it until the very last day, hoping beyond hope that there was no permanent damage and that the swelling was kept to a minimum.
Another of the very hard, diligent, stoic workers (from the hired crew) was a man who carried huge rocks on his head, and then dumped them (tossed them off his head forward) into the pit where we were working. How thankful I was that I was not carrying this weight on MY head! Sometimes THREE men had to lift the boulder onto his head before he moved to carry it to the pit. As one of my team members said about him, "He just continues to smile, and perhaps is thinking to himself that maybe, just maybe this will be the last big rock he is asked to carry!"
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