No, that isn't news, I know - but it happened to me yesterday evening around 8.30. I was about to head upstairs to fetch some Piriton for someone being driven mad by itchy Greek insect bites, when one of my wide-fitting size 13s had a run-in with a dining-table chair, and I proceeded to go spectacularly arse-over-tip. I ended up sprawled on the carpet, gabbling "I'm all right, I'm all right", because I was embarrassed at doing something so old-blokeish. Despite weighing somewhere around 17st. 4lbs and hitting the ground pretty hard, all I appear to have suffered is a sprained wrist - and, luckily, it's the left wrist: hurts like hell, but I can waggle my fingers, so it's unlikely that anything's broken. I could have...
... ricked my back or broken a leg, I suppose, so I'll happily accept a sore hand for a few days. I bent my specs a bit, and, sadly, managed to destroy a rather lovely lattice-work box from Rajasthan, which is a hell of shame.
About a week ago, my wife moved a large wooden storage box from where it had stood for several years at one end of a sofa to the other. I reckon that, if it hadn't been moved, I'd have split my skull wide open on it - at the very least, it would have wrecked my shoulder. So a big thank-you to Him Upstairs (and I don't mean our son) - I don't deserve it, but, you know, all help gratefully accepted.
It's many years since I tripped over anything in the street, but I never bother to look down when I'm moving about the house. Consequently, it only needs something to be two or three inches out of place, and my feet will find it - I'm a serial toe-breaker. My excuse (and it's a poor one, I know) is that I used to take a size 11 shoe, and I've gained two sizes over the years. Apparently, we gain roughly half a size with each passing decade - especially if we're overweight - and I expect the fact that I spend a lot of time at home bare-footed (it's more comfortable, and I always slip into something if the doorbell rings) has probably accelerated the enlargement process. I used to thunk up and down our narrow stairs at a fair old lick, but I take it slowly these days, because my feet no longer fit, and I've had a few narrow escapes.
Anyway, I will literally be watching my step indoors as well from now on - not so much because I fear being injured (which I do, of course), but because the prospect of visiting A&E and having to potentially spend hours sitting in pain while trapped inside a scene from an Hieronymus Bosch painting is truly terrifying. I suspect the real reason the Nanny State stopped all those horrible advertising campaigns warning us about the life-threatening dangers that lurk around every corner is that the idea of having to visit "our" local A&E department is now seen as the most effective deterrent of them all.
Glad to hear you're alright. At least we know there was no sign of an empty gin bottle left under a cushion on the sofa.
ReplyDeleteWell, as you say, it could have been much worse; though unfortunately you - and even more so I - have reached that stage when, if we are unlucky enough to trip on something, someone is likely to say "He/She has Had A Fall!" with a knowing look. Not He/She fell due to tripping over a rug. Oh dear me no. In their minds it is the first step on the Downward Path.
DeleteOh no it's not!
You and I are both, I believe, diabetic, and we are frequently warned not to go round in bare feet but I just can't help it. With the result that the big toe on my left foot always seems to reach obstacles before the rest of me, and therefore I have split the toenail and it shows no sign of mending.
So be kind to yourself, have a dram or two of what you fancy and, as Churchill suggests: Keep Buggering On.
Thanks, southern man. I blame the combination of about 20 prescribed medicines and OTC supplements I guzzle every day. And the screaming voices in my head don't exactly help (bloody aliens).
DeleteOn this occasion, Helen, my feet were actually shod, or it would probably have meant yet another broken toe or three. I dread the day when I'm asked if I'd like someone to "sit with" me. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to drink alcohol for the last 30 years (pancreatitis) - I usually settle for a nice cup of tea, or, if I'm really pushing the boat out, some Birds' Instant Custard (but don't tell the diabetic nurse). I hope the toenail is mending.
Glad you didn't damage the retsina or the retina.
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