So, uh, yeah, some of you read about my fall over on my husband’s blog last Friday. I thought it was kind of appropriate that it happened on the 1st day of Fall, bringing to mind the ever-hilarious 1st-grade joke, “Didja have a nice trip? See ya next fall!” Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck *rimshot*.
Seriously, thank you all for your prayers and well wishes. I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me.
Here’s what happened. I was cleaning in the kitchen, getting those behind and under kinds of places – you know, under the toaster, behind the cookie jar. I had put a pan in the sink to run under hot water while I wiped down the counters, and I guess it splashed out over the floor a little bit, because when I turned around, my leg went West, as I was turning North and my knee broke my fall. You know how you get that little seam where the square linoleum floor tiles meet? Yeah, I have the imprint on my knee cap now. It’s a lovely red line, but it does kind of clash with the big purple-y spot on the side of my knee cap. And actually, it doesn’t look as bad as it feels. As long as I keep my knee straight, there’s almost no pain. But if I try to bend my knee, or use it when trying to transition from a sit to a stand or vice-versa, oh boy.
The thing that hurt the most though, was the blow to my pride. I’m a grown woman, for Pete’s sake, and I shouldn’t be taking nose-dives in my kitchen like that. And to make matters worse, I laid there crying like a big baby, until my husband could come help me, when I realized that with his back, he couldn’t help me. And then I didn’t want his help because I realized that if he tried to help me, he’d only end up making his back worse, and then what would we do? I’m the one who’s supposed to tend to everyone else, not get tended to. That’s my job, to be the care-taker, not the care-receiver. I am not comfortable with this state of affairs at all, and my knee can’t heal fast enough to suit me.
In the meantime, I hobble around as best I can, trying to stay put in one place as long as I can so I don’t have to do that stand-sit routine very much. Only problem is, I love coffee. Coffee does not love me, refuses to stay with me any length of time, if you know what I mean. Oh now there’s some good times. GOOD TIMES! :roll: Let me tell you, it’s no longer running to the potty, it’s slow-limping to the potty. This is not a good thing for a woman in her 40s who’s had children. And let’s not even talk about the whole “do I try to sit down in a tub or stand up in a shower?” thing. Nuh-uh.
I feel like something out of a bad comedy routine. “She’s slowly getting away!” Step-limp, step-limp. Hobble, hobble.
But I did realize something as I was falling asleep that night and kind of reliving the whole impromptu kitchen ice skating thing. I know now why I hate orange. I’ve always associated emotions with colors – yellow is happy, blue is serene, green is lively, red is anger – that sort of thing. But I always drew a blank on orange, except for that I hate it. When I fell, and as I laid there feeling that pain just bloom in my knee like some kind of tentacled amorphous monster, the color behind my eyelids was orange. Bright, fiery, screaming, agonizing orange. Orange is pain for me. That’s why there have never been any orange flowers in any garden I’ve ever had. So, I’m glad I got that figured out now. Silver linings, you know.
So yeah, I had a great trip. Haven’t had one like it in 30 years, since I tripped over the hurdles in high-school gym class and left a bloody trail as I walked to the nurse’s office. Before that, it was a rock that sent me flying off my suddenly-stopped skate board. Hey, I was a California kid in the 70s, we all had skate boards back then, yep, even me. I wasn’t too bad either, until that fall. That’s the one that gave my knee it’s weather forecasting abilities. Cool, huh? I figure 3rd time’s the charm, as opposed to 3 strikes you’re out. I’m thinking positively here. Something popped in there this time, and it actually felt kind of good. That has to be good, right? RIGHT?
Other than that, I’m fine. And how was your weekend?