"I've Fallen and ..."

Last week I was bustling around, dashing for a phone or some such nonsense; I got my feet tangled up with a small footstool and pitched sideways into a pile of knitting projects (good) and an iron-bound antique trunk (bad). My shoulder took the full force of the blow against the trunk. I saw stars, I said bad words, and then slowly got to my feet again and called Saint H in from the pasture. I couldn't feel my right hand and couldn't breathe very well.

He checked me out carefully - large swelling at point of impact accompanied by a bruise that started showing up within minutes; shaken up but otherwise okay. So far the bruising hasn't fully developed and I think it will be a doozey, and my arm protests if I try to raise it above shoulder height perpendicularly to my body, but it could have been much worse.

While I've never been exactly graceful, I've always had good balance and for the most part have managed to stay on my feet when I've lost my balance temporarily. Several times in the past few years, though, it's been quite different. If I've been in the hospital for more than a week I'm very unsteady on my feet when I get out, and I've got scars on the bridge of my nose and my upper lip to prove that, from two separate falls. I often feel very disoriented now when I fall, and I seem to be less able to save myself from falling.

I know extended stays in the hospital contribute to muscle weakness. Maybe the rest of it is age, or maybe I'm starting to get scared of falling since I've hurt myself a couple of times. I can say, based on my experiences, that I'm less likely to laugh at the cheesy Life-Alert commercial now. It's not so funny when you're down there yourself.