All Fall Down. Again

My physical therapist warned me: the more I walk the more I'm going to fall so I'd better get used to it.

But this last one was a doozy.

We had come home from a lovely Rosh Hashanah dinner at my cousins' and went upstairs. I remembered I had left my phone downstairs and wanted to see my daily step count, so I headed back down to get it.

I sat down on the couch to look at it, got up, and after perhaps one step my prosthetic foot decided not to move, and down I went.

It was a similar fall to the one I took in Mexico City, only more so. The pain and anguish had me howling. Since I still had my phone I called Jerry to help me up. Only I couldn't get up. Just like in Mexico City.

Jerry went to the garage and once again, got my wheelchair. He removed my prosthesis and helped me into the chair.

He got me upstairs and helped me undress and get into bed. I downed a megadose of Ibuprofen and attempted to get comfortable.

Ha! I suppose comfort is relative. I did get some sleep, and the following morning I was a little bit better.

It's three days later, and I am getting a bit better every day. I am still pretty uncomfortable, and I have not attempted walking yet. Maybe later today. Maybe tomorrow.

Falling, I suppose, is an art. I have to learn to do it better. I think what happened both times is the weight of the inanimate prosthesis pulled my leg back and overstretched the muscles in my hip flexor and thigh. I did go to Hopkins for x-rays and nothing was broken, and the rod in my femur was undisturbed. I am thankful for that.

This is my life, and there are days, like a couple of days ago, I really hate it. As I lay on the floor after my fall, I kept thinking, can I really live like this? Believe me, I had my doubts.

But we are leaving for Tbilisi on Thursday, and I should be pretty good by then. And my Cleveland cousins are coming to our house for Thanksgiving this year, and with Jerry's help, I am doing the cooking.

When bad things happen it is easy to forget about the good things in life. Like making, stuffing, going to the ballet in Tbilisi, and talking to Grace, one of my closest friends, last night.

I will fall again. And I will be angry, and most likely, in pain. And it might take a while, but I will get up, put on my big-girl prosthesis, and bake a pie.