When I was four I went to pre-school at a catholic church. The boys always climbed a fence and were always told not to. Well I was not going to be outdone by a stinky old boy. So I climbed the fence. But guess what? I fell on the top of the fence. So what do you think, did I cry like a girl? Nope, I kept my mouth shut. I got on my little school van and went home. As soon as the van pulled away I showed my mom. I needed a few stitches for that one. I still have a little scar on the inside of my arm to remind me of that day.
When we lived in Germany I bought a beautiful shelf. A shelf that was hard to get up my staircase. I had help by my landlord who only spoke English. Half way up the stairs something happened and it got dropped on the front of my leg ripping the skin off. Finally we made it up the stairs and into the apartment. Later that evening I was re arranging furniture. The piece I needed to move was a big cabinet with our fish tank on top. I started trying to move it but it would not budge so I turned around and thought okay I can move it with my back. The only problem was…. You guessed it I slipped and ripped all the skin off my backbone. At that point I just collapsed onto the ground in sobs. I was tired of being hurt, I was tired of my husband not being home and honestly I was just tired. Within a few seconds my precious baby boy (now over 6 foot tall) walked over (shirtless) and pulled what little skin his skinny chest had for me to use as a tissue to wipe my tears. I love my son.
So fast forward to 2009. My husband was gone (doesn’t it seem like he is always gone). I got the kids in bed and was just about to go to bed. I started getting dressed when I realized my toilet was overflowing. I took off running through the house (pant less) to the hallway bathroom where we kept the plunger. It was not there, so I ran into my son’s bathroom. There was my first mistake running. As soon as I hit the tile in his bathroom I hit water and fell in the doorway. I remember the back of my head hitting the counter and my legs and knees knocking everything it could. Is this where I tell you somehow he had a good inch of water in his floor. Every time I tried to get up I would fall again and feel something else hurting. He had a jack and Jill bathroom. Which means that it was between his room and the girl’s room? I screamed for my son to help me. No response. He honestly was not 6 feet from me. I screamed again and again and again. It finally dawned on me that I could just drag myself to the carpet in his room. I finally made it into the living room. I spent the rest of the night in my chair. I just knew I could not go to sleep and it hurt to bad to get up and go get pain meds.
I am the queen of falling. I fell a few months ago trying to put my crock pot away. Breaking my precious crock pot.
Do you fall? If you fall do you tell anyone?
Oh I just thought about another fall. in 2008 I fell in my kitchen on some water. I iced my knee for weeks. I found out a year later that I actually tore something when I fell and had to have surgery. Again, I did not tell anyone I fell that time because of course my husband was GONE.