I didn’t expect to fall. A good, artificial surface, followed by grass. Time to leave the buggy and move a little; bit cool, legs a little stiff. One of my sticks became caught, then a stumble. People describe the time before impact as seeming long. It does. I landed face down. Thud! Are my teeth intact? Blood? Can I move my arm, fingers? Sebastian, waiting to tee off on the 12th cries; I do too. Rick rushes to me, Adam to Sebastian. ‘Does this mean my daddy will die sooner?’. Rick helps me enormously; gets me up and back in the buggy. Adam is magic with Sebastian. My boy doesn’t say much about how he feels, but it comes out here. What else can he do next, but pick up his driver? They play the 12th, 13th, 14th, 17th & 18th and the last shots need night-vision goggles. People at the golf club are marvellous. Two days on I have painful ribs and I can’t use my left arm to push up with. I constantly adjust, and find the balance between risk avoidance and doing what I can.