Remember that television commercial where the poor lady is lying on the floor calling out “help, I’ve fallen and can’t get up?” If you’re like me, you probably found it a little funny and used that phrase jokingly several times. Well, I’m here to tell you, I’m not laughing anymore. Back in June I fell during a sack race at the family reunion and broke my rib. I really thought that was a “one and done” type thing. But, oh no. I had to go and do it again.
We have a short three-block high landscape wall in the front of our house. As I’ve done countless times, I was walking along the edge of the wall when apparently I looked one way and stepped the other. I fell forward onto the edge of the wall and rolled off onto the ground. I don’t bounce. I landed with a thud. My immediate thought was I had broken my left arm. The pain everywhere was incredible. The Great Hunter was in the garage and I called out to him several times, but since he can’t hear squat, he didn’t hear me. Gradually, I was able to get up and stumble into the garage. As I hobbled along I discovered many other places that hurt besides my forearm.
By far, my worst injury is to my left forearm. The skin was just peeled back. When I was at the doctor the next day, he said the words I’ve always wanted to hear…”you’re pretty thin”. But unfortunately, he wasn’t talking about my physique, he was referring to my skin. Another wonder of getting older (apparently along with balance.)
Luckily, the injury to my knees is apparently only soft tissue. But I was limping for a day or two. By that evening my shoulder was beginning to hurt and I wasn’t even aware that I had bruised it until I undressed for bed. I certainly hoped I hadn’t injured my rotator cuff. I know healing from a rotator cuff repair is a real bugger. I’m a little worse for wear but in the large scope of things, I was fortunate. It could have been a lot worse. I must have had an angel sitting on my shoulder.