My first thought after hearing about Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg breaking three ribs last night was “good God, no…not another Supreme Court vacancy with Trump nominating another Kavanaugh-like partisan…Jesus, please!”
My second thought, of course, was concern for Justice Ginsburg’s well-being. It’s one thing to crack a couple of ribs in your 40s or 50s, but people in their 80s don’t hold up as well. I was actually heartened to read a N.Y. Times account that says Ginsburg “went home after her fall” in her Supreme Court office. In short she didn’t immediately call a doctor because she’s made of sterner stuff. I know it’s not appropriate to call her “a chip off the old Lee Marvin block” but this is how I would handle a fall if I was in her shoes — take the pain, suck it in, brush it off.
But Ginsburg “experienced discomfort over the night” and “was admitted to George Washington University Hospital, where doctors found three broken ribs on her left side,” according to a spokesperson. My head is worried but my heart tells me she’ll get through this.
I suppose I felt particularly startled because last night I watched Justice Ginsburg perform a heroic walk-on at the finale of Mimi Leder‘s On the Basis of Sex, the Ginsburg biopic that will premiere at AFI fest tonight. I attended a guild screening at the SVA theatre on West 23rd Street. The embargo lifts after tonight’s showing.
