’Twas early and the morning was full of the promise of a good day. The sky was blue with only one white fluffy cloud drifting by. The sun was bright. A gentle breeze occasionally passed over.
I opened the back door to let the dogs out — eager to go they were. Suddenly the bright day turned gray, then black.
How much later I know not. There I lay head on the concrete, feet inside on the kitchen floor. Two anxious dogs whimpered nearby, stopping only to lick my face and arms. I lifted my head to survey the space, my head weighed 2 tons and complained like something a sledge hammer was hitting. Leaning on a door frame, I crawled inside, made my way to cold water and bed. Later, I looked my head over—a tennis ball size bump on the back of my head and a bruise across my forehead. Long bangs covered the damage. I survived.
The moral of the event is do not walk into an open door! It hurts and it doesn’t look good.