I did not even watch James Bond, but the holiday was doomed from the moment it began. It was not long before Marc and I were fighting – mostly about little things that I’d forgotten at home and that I’d put no thought into planning for the holiday at all. I live one day at a time. There are very few things that I plan in advance. That is why I married Marc – he thinks enough for both of us and more besides.
I don’t remember when the arguments started, but we fought to and from the Seaview Lion Park and most of Tuesday morning. All Marc wanted to do was go back home to Johannesburg. In fact, he even packed the bags, ready to go. Somehow, I convinced Marc to stay. We went for a walk along the beach front, stopping at Red Windmill for a long while, just watching the sea and a ship entering the harbour. We then decided to take a walk to the shopping centre further along the beach and go to the pharmacy. While we we were there, we stopped for lunch. As we were leaving we decided to walk further along the beach where wooden walkways had been erected. They had looked wheelchair friendly as we drove past.
Unfortunately, we did not make it that far. After crossing the road, the tyres of my manual wheelchair hit a bump in the sandy grass and stopped dead. The rules of motion meant that I continued moving and fell out my wheelchair. That was at 15:00 almost to the minute. The rest of that afternoon and evening was spent in hospital getting x-rays and having my arm set and bandaged in a hard slab, not plaster of Paris.
That was three weeks ago. And no, it’s not an April Fool’s joke …
It's my life ... 