A funny thing happened on the way to the office … from the dining room (I work at home). I tripped in the semi-dark—it was early—and went sailing forward, trying to save my breakfast which I had in a bowl in one hand (solid, not liquid). I reached the wall and stopped abruptly, with the help of my head. Ouch. (See photo of wall above.) I saw sparks. I’m not quite sure what happened next, but I ended up on the floor on my tailbone. Double ouch. Then followed a long process of figuring out how to get back up off the floor. Most of my breakfast survived, still in the bowl except for the eggs. That, I found upsetting.
I’m 75 years old, and getting up from the floor has been a challenge for quite a few years, if I don’t have the right furniture in place in advance, and I didn’t. Having a sore rear didn’t help, but I eventually made it the rest of the way into the office and up into my work chair. I’ve had practice with this.
So I’ve been quieter than usual on Substack, mostly because I’ve been sleeping a lot. It seems to help with healing. I discussed the fall with one of my doctors (teleconference), and she had good suggestions. I have doctors that have time to talk and know how to listen, paid by subscription, not insurance. And that pathway now has a motion-sensing night-light at either end. Why didn’t I think of that? And I have a nice donut cushion to sit on.
It is something else, to grow old and begin to lose that which you always took for granted. It’s hard to describe.