I fell last night. I had toasted a Pepperidge Farm everything bagel half. I had my glass of milk. Francis and I were going to settle in and watch a series on Paramount I hadn’t seen before. So I was not paying attention when I stepped on my stool to get into my high bed. The stool flipped on its side and my lower leg fell hard on it. There was blood everywhere. My skin had popped open. Maybe four inches horizontally. A bloody mess.
I called my son and he came right away. He found the storage box of dressings and Kling wrap I had left over from my leg wound treatments last year. I cleaned the blood away. Lined the wound with Lidocaine that my rheumatologist had given me for my RA. Covered it with large dressing and secured it with Kling wrap. I’m keeping it elevated and will change the dressing Monday. It is a superficial wound. Looks impressive. Messy. No broken bones. The color in my foot is normal. No swelling. So I am good.
I got in bed. Watched the new show. I ate my cold bagel and drank my milk. Francis ate his cracker. I am disappointed that I fell. I have been careful. So, the reality is not if you fall but when. As you grow older, life brings a new set of risks to manage.
Physical therapy will teach you how to fall successfully. PT had given me the instructions when I had a hip replacement. It is a valuable skill to have as you get older. I have no loose rugs or slippery floors. Opportunities to fall seem to show up any way.