yes, the other day, walking in the woods, i decided to take a shortcut, scrambling up a pile of dirt. alas, when i reached the top, i lost my footing, hurled across space into another wall of stone and soil. and yes, i lay there, feeling completely foolish, like a toddler who couldn't stand on his own two feet. and yes, since nothing seemed broken, i did smile and say, "some lessons i have to learn over and over again."
luckily, a bad gash below my left knee,had taken the blow. a little higher and my knee-cap would have shattered. then i'd been in a hell of a predicament. able to stand, i hobbled toward the lookout like a horse with a broken leg. and for the next week i ascended and descended the stairs one step at a time. i started adding up all the times i'd fallen in the last five years.
first, a car slammed into me in a crosswalk. my neighbor standing on the corner said i did indeed fly. landing on my face, i didn't feel much like talking to the people hovering over me or the lady driver crying. so, okay, we know i survived that one. i upped my dose of prozac and it made me feel so good, i lost my footing, once rolling down the steps of the back deck, hitting my head twice on a very solid, dr. johnson tree. my back could have broken. it didn't.
then i tumbled over a short ledge at the tower, banging my forehead on a piece of random cement, in the same place the treee had reminded me not to be an idiot. the third time i missed a step coming down the steps inside the lookout, fortunately not from the top, straight into the wall at the foot of the stairs. once again i escaped a fate worse than death. just a few aches and pains. i reduced the dose of prozac, losing a certain bliss in favor of feeling pain.
okay, last winter, i fell three times in exactly the same way, twisting to the left, one at the top of some stairs in the art building, once falling into aisle trying to escape a lecture i knew was going to get even more boring. that got me a lot of attention i didn't need. and the last time i can't remember. i'd been taking heart medicine and when i cut the dose in half, i seemed to lose my place in the world. this time i increased the dose.
at the beginning of fire season i tripped near the tower, taking photographs, my foot tangled in a root. i knew i was supposed to be careful, too old to multitask, but once again i forgot, distracted by a flower, falling flat on my face. (no, the camera wasn't broken). alas, i've been discouraged from going out and taking pictures since.
this reminded of the time when i was out photographing, i thought i heard a rattlesnake, and instinctively jumped. no rattlesnake, but, boy, did i get a lump on my forehead, proof below. all this goes to prove what i read, trying to prepare for old age: AFTER 65 YOU WILL FALL. i've tried to heed that warning to no avail. reality keeps getting the best of me. and yes, i'm still limping. 78 and waiting for the rules of the universe to change.
