I’m watching an old movie, a romantic comedy from 1938 you’ve never heard of, starring people I’ve never heard of.
The husband rushes to the hospital where his wife has been taken after a fall down the stairs. “How’s my wife?” He asks the nurse. “She had a fall,” the nurse replies. “Is she badly hurt?” “Skull fracture,” the nurse answers nonchalantly. “Nothing to be alarmed about.”
I had to stop the stream and write this, I was so taken with how far we’ve fallen from our sturdy forebears who scoffed at minor injuries like skull fractures.
I feel like such a wuss with my lingering after-effects of the lesser injuries I’ve endured. Why, just to show me, I’ll bet our heroine will be fully recovered in the next three minutes.
I must go back now and see just how it’s done.
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