Out of the scratcher ridiculously early (6.00 am), and straight to work after brekky. (I was feeling a bit work-guilty because of meeting Carl last night for a get-together for my birthday (pints and eats in the recently refurbished Yacht pub in Clontarf). I'd used my travel pass for the first time getting a bus the ridiculously short journey to the bottom of the Malahide Road and met Carl at the DART station. When we finished in the Yacht (11.00 pm before we knew it), we walked back to the station, he got the DART home and I waited to wave my new pass once again and get a bus back home.)
After lunch I decided to play with my travel pass again and walked to Killester station with the intention of going to Howth and back by DART, spending some blip time out there and getting in some quality walking as well. I'd only got a few stops along the way when my mobile rang. It was Susan, my next-door neighbour, sounding distressed. She'd taken a fall and couldn't get up off the floor. Somehow she'd managed to work her way to a table and dial my number. I got off the DART at Raheny, hailed a taxi, explained the circumstances to the driver and asked him to step on it. He was wonderful. Not only did he get my back home in the shortest possible time, but he also hung around while I popped in to my place, picked up Susan's keys and let myself into hers. She'd fallen while either getting off or trying to get on to her walker, there were papers strewn all over the floor, and she was obviously in pain. I called the taxi driver to help me, which he did willingly. Between us we got her up off the floor and into a chair. My other next-door neighbour came in shortly afterwards, I phoned Susan's son to let him know what had happened, the phone rang and it turned out to be the occupational therapist from Beaumont Hospital, who had previously arranged to contact Susan to arrange to show her the ropes with her new motorized wheelchair. When I explained the circumstances to him he said he'd inform Susan's nurse, who in turn phoned Susan's daughter, and it wasn't too long before we had quite a little army of helpers gathered round.
Susan's doctor said he'd send someone round between 6.00 and 7.00 to take a look at her. She gradually improved and settled down, but there was still no sign of a doctor by 7.15, so we phoned again and got through to D-Doc. They logged the call and said either they or the previously arranged locus would be there soon. I left Susan's daughter holding the fort at 7.15 or so, promising to relieve her later and call back in once a doctor had been.
The evening was glorious, I felt the need for some fresh air, and I still had some blipping to do. Clontarf seemed like a good idea, so I drove to the start of the sea front, parked the car and began a bit of a wander. A bit of shadow-play led on to an encounter with some rusted steps, pumping-station reflections, and a bit of generational bonding. I was making my way towards Clontarf Yacht Club (or is it just a Sailing Club?) when I saw a bright red kayak being carried towards the slipway. I speeded up, intent on blipping the nice bright redness. I was concerned that the guys would have pushed away by the time I got within blipping distance, but they cooperated nicely and waited long enough for me to get this shot, among others. I felt this would be today's blip, but there's never anything to be lost by having as much as possible in the can, so I crossed the road to investigate the boat yard, which is where I spotted this not so eagle-eyed guy who looked as if he'd forgotten where the water was.
I checked on Susan when I got back home again. Both doctors had called at the same time. One or the other took over, was a bit concerned at some bruising and swelling on Susan's back but agreed that it didn't merit immediate transfer to hospital, once Susan undertook to contact her own doctor first thing tomorrow. He also gave her some heavy-duty painkillers to tide her over. She was in much better form when I took over for half an hour or so after Alison, her daughter, left. Quite a day!