That Was A Bad Trip

This morning certainly wasn’t a typical morning for me. I took quite a spill and it was most unpleasant and a more than a little scary actually. I had a little run in with the floor at the bottom of our stairs.

Just the other day I was coming downstairs and noticed that I always look at the steps while going down them. Most of the time I also count them (there are 15 by the way). I’m not sure what I expect to be different than the last 3000 times I have gone up or down them. This morning I had just finished getting ready to go out for a doctor’s appointment. Wouldn’t you know – the one time I don’t watch the steps or count them is the one time I come down them at excessive speed. (It’s not really important what I was doing instead of watching the steps and counting them…but in case you MUST know, I was texting. **insert joke here**)

I was on the fourth step from the bottom when the heel of my right foot clipped the step that i was stepping down from. Generally one is supposed to take the steps one at a time but I guess I was trying to come down them like a ballerina (because I’m so graceful like a ballerina and all) on the tips of my toes. However, that’s not quite how it played out. I twisted both of my feet OUT and hit the wood floor at the bottom. As I lay on floor of my foyer writhing in pain I remembered that two years ago I had foot surgery on my right foot. I was afraid to try to move it in case I was going to find out that it was broken or that the remaining tendon might be damaged. But because I am extraordinarily brave I decided thought I might should attempt to wiggle my toes. Check – toes wiggled just fine. Then I started thinking through what I was gonna do if something was broken and I couldn’t walk. I happened to know that each of my neighbors who I would call in an emergency were not at home. I saw one leave while spying out my front door earlier. And I also recall not seeing my other neighbor’s vehicle in her driveway. And as is usually the case when something big happens around here, Ron is out of town. At this point I thought “Good heavens, I’m gonna have to call an ambulance for this. They are all gonna laugh at me.” Before crawling to my phone I thought perhaps I would just see what would happen if I stood up before humiliating myself by calling 911. Thankfully I was able to stand and nothing seemed to be broken. WHEW! Plus I knew I was on my way to my pain management doctor and could get it x-rayed there if I thought it needed to be.

I am quite sore. The pain has spread from my ankles up my legs to my hips. But I don’t detect any considerable swelling or discoloration. I realize how lucky I was with my right foot. I didn’t want to even think about having to wear another cast and have to get around on crutches again.

I think I’m gonna put up a sign on the stairwell that says “Don’t text and walk steps”. Because my little incident was a little too close for me. It was quite the trip – and not in a good way.


3 thoughts on “That Was A Bad Trip

  1. Glad you are okay. Next time you come to my house, I will ask you to hold on to the railing all the way down the stairs. And I may go down in front of you just in case so I can break your fall : )

    Hope you are feeling better. I know it helps that Ron is back.

    • I will be watching the steps and holding the railing. But breaking my fall would be helpful. I would hate to knock those beautiful pictures off the wall at the bottom of your steps!

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