Being sassy, healthy, and sixty (or any other age) offers no protection from that most fearsome of all occurrences on a sunny Sunday morning–a fall.
Cue the replay: I see my friend drive up, I start to walk over to greet her, and am suddenly on the sidewalk, my right knee hurting enough to make me see stars. Whose idea was it to put a little curb right where I was about to step? Extremely inconsiderate, don’t you agree?
As I sat up, I noticed my left ankle was a bit tender. An hour later, the ankle was quite tender, and beginning to swell like a black and blue yeast roll. Turns out I had a tiny fracture in a tiny bone (don’t ask me to spell it), and was immediately relegated to das boot, which resembles something a storm trooper in outer space might wear. It has so much velcro that the Corps of Engineers would be proud.
Once I had a pretty good idea how to strap it on, I clomped out, resigned to having all my activities curtailed for the next little while. No more Jazzercise, walking, or water aerobics for now.
It only took a little while to stop grumbling and see the positive aspects, which are considerable.
- I didn’t break anything large, like a hip or a wrist
- My foot doesn’t hurt.
- I can do most weight machines other than the leg press, and most Pilates moves. Whatever it takes to keep me on the path and off the curb.
- Most Important: Thanks to my fabulous Frankenboot, I can still get around just fine. At just under 2 pounds, it’s not a big encumbrance, though it lacks a certain . . . je ne sais quoi. I’m thinking about adorning it with faux fur and calling it a fashion statement.
As fortunate as I feel at the moment, these kinds of events always make me think about what I would have done had I broken something more significant. Who’d carry my laundry downstairs? Scoop the litter box? Go to the grocery store for me? My fall is one big reminder of why we need to work to stay mobile as well as healthy.
Be well–and watch your step!