Well, That Happened.


I spent a lot of time writing about this incident earlier, but then figured what the heck, nobody needs all the gory details. In short, here’s what happened: On Saturday, January 21, I was leaving a downtown restaurant with my sisters after lunch. Walking to our cars and saying goodbye on that sunny and nearly iceless day, I managed to slip on some black ice in the parking lot and went down like a sack of potatoes, breaking my left hip. I actually didn’t know it was broken until I tried to stand up. Yikes!
All Minnesotans know we’re supposed to do the penguin shuffle in the winter, especially the elderly and feeble. (People like me.) It just wasn’t that kind of day, and I was SO close to my car, and we were laughing and saying goodbye and going on to our own errands, and suddenly I was down. Just like that.

“I’m calling an ambulance,” one of my sisters said. I thought “Geez, that’s sort of dramatic and probably not necessary.”  I thought this for about 5 seconds, during which time I tried to stand up, and finally said “Call and ambulance!” A firetruck arrived first for a lift assist, but when they realized that it was more than just an old lady falling, the ambulance arrived. I was taken to a local hospital where I was put on an IV and pain medications, probably to lessen the tragic moment when they had to use scissors to cut off my favorite best-fitting pair of jeans. Boo hoo.

Surgery was on Sunday morning, though I remember very little of that. I remember being wheeled down to a waiting room with one nurse in attendance, and then I remember waking up in my room. My sisters were there, and the surgeon, and a nurse, and I think I told everyone I had had a hysterectomy 2 years ago, which was part of the brain fog I was experiencing, as in fact that other thing happened some 28 years ago. I can only imagine what else I said.

I was in the hospital for several days and then moved to Ecumen Lakeshore, where I was in rehab for 3 weeks. If you have to go anywhere for physical rehabilitation, try to get into Ecumen Lakeshore. The people are wonderful, the therapists are relentless (which is why I’m walking with only a cane right now) and the food is often very good. With one surly exception, the aides were kind and funny and patient and helpful.

But there’s no place like home, is there, Dorothy? I missed my cats and my own bed and my own things and everything about my pre-fall life. I was happy to return home, where my sisters had taken care of the house and cats and mail and all small details, and who took care of me as I resumed my “normal” life.

Today I’m walking with a cane, still in therapy, and have one leg shorter than the other by 1″. The surgeon says 6 months to 1 year to full recovery, and I was hoping that wouldn’t be true, but it looks like it might. I see a physical therapist twice a week and am progressing more slowly than I’d like, but I’m sticking with it. Having never been an exercise person, my advice to the world in general is “lose weight and get in shape before you fall, not after.” It’s good advice. Wish I’d have followed it myself.

So life moves along, and in time I hope to be doing all the things I did before, except faster than I’m doing them today. Lots of changes in my life, like giving up lawn mowing (seriously not a hardship) and being unable to get off the floor in the unlikely chance I find myself there, or getting into a bathtub for a bubble bath as I did all the time pre-fall. (I will get there, though: It is my goal.)

Now that I’m spending quite a lot of time on my ever-widening arse, I expect I’ll have time to write more. (Stop me if you’ve heard this before.) I thank my few faithful readers for sticking around, and I promise to do better.

All 10 fingers are still working.

Be careful out there!

Your Reply