Unfortunate accidents...

Happen every now and then. And when they do, all we can hope for is that the recovery is quick and that our lives aren't too shambled by whatever befell us.

Two days ago, I entered a Copps supermarket wanting to fix myself a little meal at the salad bar and ended up getting more than I had originally hoped for. Yes, somehow, I slipped and fell inside Copps as I stepped on a large puddle of water that seemed to be coming from a leaky cheese cooler. The result was a visit to a nearby ER, a tetanus shot in the leg, a painful wrist and a stitches on my upper lip.

Two days past, I am still waiting to hear from Copps, or at least from their insurance company regarding what I am supposed to do about my newly incurred medical bills. I remember giving my contact information to the store's director, prior to being taken to the hospital. I recall, a few hours later and while still under the effects of a facially administered anesthetic, a brief recorded phone conversation with some insurance representative who, having called me from an unidentifiable number, managed to end her interrogation without leaving me any means for reaching her.

Now, and maybe I'm too involved in this affair, but I somehow feel that kindness has been thrown out of the equation. Empathy has been discarded, or at least constrained. The Copps store director could check on me, if for no other reason than in consideration for the generous amount of blood I left in his store. What if I have concerns? What if I have questions? No, the insurance company has been notified. After all, this is exactly why insurance companies are heftily paid. Meanwhile, why not ignore the victim, and move on with business as usual?

So, thank you Mr. Director of the Copps supermarket, at 3650 University Avenue. I truly appreciate how you are handling this one. No, in fact, allow me to extend my gratitude to Copps Corporation and Roundy's for their very-far-from-satisfactory policies on accidents such as the one I have been a victim of. Thank you for showing how much you care about this particular patron's well-being.

But worry not, Mr. Director, I will recover, although I'll have a scar to remind me of this unimportant accident. Yes, I can't wash my face and hair for a few days, per the doctor's directions, but I will somehow come to laugh about this whole debacle, right?

Be well, and watch out for slippery floors.