Cause seriously? Post chemo, I’ve fallen down the steps twice. Twice. Read that again. Twice.
Went through 43 years of life without ever falling down the stairs. But come year 44/45. Twice. Maybe it’s aging? No. I really don’t think so. I’ve known lots of people who have aged. They can still navigate steps.
First time, well, both times actually, it was stupid. Dumb little mis-step.
First time, I was walking down the carpeted steps to the basement. Guess I placed my foot, as I was stepping down, too far past the edge of the step. My foot goes out from under me, my bottom hits hard on the step, I proceed to thump my way into the basement, howling, and terrifying my husband as he is trying to peacefully play a game of pool. That butt-cheek bruise lasted for weeks.
Second time? This one takes the cake. You all have read about my inability to get back into a good exercise routine right? Well, once again, trying to get myself back into shape. I worked myself out good. Lots of squats, some kettlebell exercises, great workout. My thighs were burning, I felt awesome!! Was a bit stiff the next day though. Went upstairs to make sure the boy was in the shower. The legs were a bit gimpy as I came back down the stairs. Stiff and sore. Once again, I guess, I placed my foot too far past the edge of the step. I thumped again on that same butt-cheek, this time on the wooden stairs. The ones that curved around. Ug, that curve. It somehow managed to shift my momentum forward as I rounded it, propelling me from butt-cheek, to sideways, to head-first – left cheek, left arm, both arms forward into the most graceless of lack-of-water dives down to the main level of the house. If anyone would have seen me, I would have been quite the site. My thumping down the wooden staircase brought Mike running in from the kitchen, Nick running down from the shower (leaving puddles of water everywhere), both asking me if I was all right. So mad at myself, and knowing they were worried, and needing me to make noise as I laid there angry at my clumsiness, self-assessing my damage, I yelled, ARRRR I’m fine!!! Super mad though that I had once again, fallen victim to the stupid stairs.
After determining that I was fine, they both laughed a bit at me. As they should. I was glad for their concern, and glad they could amuse themselves at my benefit once they made sure I wasn’t hurt.
Later, Mike said, “That sounded like you were falling down the stairs in slow-motion!” I looked at him, “That is exactly what happened!!”
I hope I have learned my lesson. Every time I walk down the steps now, I do it with caution, I think about what I am doing. Every once in a while, I think back to when I used to bound quickly and noisily down the steps (sorry, Mom) and marvel at the fact that I could do that with no incident.
Yep, the chemo/cancer caused the clumsy. The recovery made me wise and careful.
Navigate the stairs with caution my friends. Especially my clumsy ones! 😉