Friday, April 22, 2011

Falling: Part One of the Art of a Stubborn Life



A few days ago I took a fall. I wished I could say that this was a prelude to a romantic interlude, but no.

It was a literal fall.

It was a simple move: step up one stair, put a bucket on the porch, swivel to the left, take a step down. Nope. I knew I was going to fall before I did. I knew I could do nothing to stop it. But being stubborn, I tried to. Twisted back, and over compensated. Ended up doing nothing but wrenching few more muscles.
I recall, as I hit the cement, ( first on my hand, elbow, then my knee, then on my hip) that my first thought was: This is really gonna piss me off.
It just took a few seconds, and I could see it all happening in slow motion.  Really, that does happen.

I ended up on my left side, curled like a shrimp on myself. Huh. I didn’t hit my head. Good. I flexed my left leg. Not broken, doesn’t seem sprained. Good. Damn! This is gonna hurt so much later, and I am not gonna ever live it down. Jim wanted to teach me how to fall right, and I said later. Dumb.

I rolled onto my back and shaded my eyes with my arm. Huh. I could lay here forever and no one would know. Middle of the day and everyone at work, good thing that I didn’t hit my head. Did I hit my head? Nope. But crap, my neck is gonna be really bad. Good thing I am seeing the chiropractor on Thursday.

I should get up and move inside. Nah. I continued to lay there and stare at the sky filtered by the shiny green of the pittosporum leaves intertwined with the big cedar. I thought: “why don’t’ I lay on the ground more often?” I answered myself “ Because the neighbors already think you are crazy. Laying on the ground in the front yard will just confirm it.”


What I saw.

Before I could really enter into this argument with myself I slowly sat up. Ok. That works. Elbow is scraped, knee, well rather yucky. Hip-really sore already. Hand, a bit scraped. But no blood. Good. I got up. Looked at the steps. Stuck my tongue out and turned around and went to the gym. Because I am stubborn.

My lessonon this type of falling: I don’t need to hurry, and everything, everything can wait a few minutes—

and ice, Aleve and more ice, not the gym, after a fall. Hmmm. Will ice work on a bruised heart?