Falling Down…Bouncing Back

Stairs
Stairs (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I fell down my cellar stairs on Friday.

I’m just fine now. But I think it’s funny what goes through a person’s head when something sudden happens.

First, the whole incident was caused by my rushing to get ready to go to camp. I keep my elderly cat in my cellar because she seems to think my whole house is a litter box when I’m away. The water bowl from the previous weekend was still quite full but I wanted her to have fresh water and sloshed a bit on the stairs as I rushed to rinse and refill it.

Needless to say, wet stairs, hands full and worn sneakers sent me bopping down most of the stairs upon return.

First thought…”Hey, I didn’t drop the glass bowl!” (Most of the water was all over me though.)

Second thought…”I didn’t hit my head, so I’ll live.”

Well, I knew I was going to have some beautiful bruises but my mission to get ready moved along.

The car ride took about 45 minutes. When I arrived, there was the usual age related stiffness and then I tried to walk to my campsite. My left leg would bear none of my weight. I have had broken bones before and this felt oddly familiar. Strange thing was, I had fallen on my right side. What was my left leg doing when I had fallen? Why was it working, until the ride, then stopped?

My husband rushed up and asked if I had hurt myself?

“Yes, I fell down the cellar stairs just before leaving the house.” I laughed it off. “Didn’t hit my head, I’ll live.”

It took me an excruciating 15 minutes to hobble 50 yards. I used my leg as little as possible but was pretending to take my time as I went.

The pain wasn’t in the joint, it was from the bone.

I sat on the swing and had a Twisted Tea. Thought some booze might loosen me up. I couldn’t remember what my left leg had done when I fell? My mind was on those accident victims who walk away from car wrecks to find they had broken bones after all.

That night, I took aspirin. My concern was a blood clot from damage that I was not aware of.

I could not use my leg, at all!

As I prepared for a night on the couch, I imagined myself in a cast by the end of the next day. Gosh, to move it was very painful!

When morning broke, I found that my leg wasn’t. I had function again. I hobbled a little. Not one bruise decorated the area that had hurt the most. Go figure.

Today is Monday…I only remember the fall when my bruised right thigh gets knocked by the kids, even then, it isn’t too bad.

I will never take those stairs at lightening speed again.

If an autopsy is ever done on my poor battered body, I think the Medical Examiner will wonder what truck had hit me and when?