Well, not much blood but mishaps are time-consuming, hence my current lapse.

I fell on Bloor Street Friday afternoon. Falls are deadly for old people.I try to keep limber in order to fall as well as I can, that is, with the least amount of damage when I do fall. Falls are also inevitable. I tripped over a manhole cover and went down face forward. Here's the good news: I did not land on my face. It was a four-point landing: knees and fore-arms. I was pretty shook up. Later, at home, after a rare-for-me pill with some ice on the sorest part - my right elbow - and a sleep, I tried to assess the damage. I couldn't swim; it hurt to move my arm.

I'm having trouble pushing the keys on my laptop; any pressure on the fingers, especially the thumb of my right hand, hurts to the elbow and shoulder. (Reminds me of that song about being connected.) Anyway, by Saturday afternoon when I had trouble slicing a tomato, I accepted help from my son and daughter-in-law. They dropped me at Emerg at Mt. Sinai Hospital. I had the Ian Rankin novel with me that I have been reading while I pedal, so I was prepared.

I am constantly impressed with the efficiency, sympathy, patience and good humour of the staff in emergency wards. I'm going to write a thank-you letter after my blog. They took X-rays and told me I had torn ligaments, to be confirmed by the head radiologist on Monday. No swimming for a while but I can do some physiotherapy. The only hitch is that I'm going to Winnipeg later this week to attend the 80th birthday party of my last living relative - of my generation. I'll need help with my carry-on bag so I have asked for a wheelchair (I'm still a bit shaken too).

"Tell me," said the doctor reading my X-rays, " how you managed to reach 87 with only sciatica and no medications?"

Good ancestors, I guess, plus swimming.

I take my good health and moderate strength for granted until something like this happens and I have trouble slicing a mushroom (worse than tomatoes).

All I can say - to you as well as to me - be careful.