Down, Down She Went

Wednesday morning I got up, got dressed and went to the gym for an hour's workout. I came home, had my brekkie, went for a hair appointment, and came back by 9 o'clock to start my washing and my day. I piled our huge hamper to the top and then about 18" on top of that. It was almost as tall as I am.

Going down the stairs I took it slowly as I had way too much to carry easily. I rested on the bottom step for a second and then took the last step. Only it wasn't the last step. I heard my voice yell as my hip hit the arm of the bench below but still I didn't let go of that basket. Then I lurched to the right, completely out of control and lost the handles as I went down. When the mass of clothes settled, there I was lying flat out on the floor in front of our front door, winded, bumped and a little scared. Oops! I guess I didn't count the steps right.

I lie there for a minute or so, then check myself over. No broken bones. I think I'm alright. Don't know if I can get up or not. No choice as I'm alone in the house. I sit and grab the stair railing to slowly pull myself up--my brain is still working, at least.

Long story short, I was okay. I gathered up the clothes and threw a couple of piles down the basement stairs before I carried the rest in the hamper. The thing that really makes me angry with myself is that in trying to save a trip down two flights to the basement and thus save time and energy I have totally messed up my energy output for three days as of now and still counting. The anti-inflammatories that I took eased the swelling and I am pretty close to normal until I try to walk anywhere. Then I move like my arthritic friend, lurching along, always thinking of the shortest route to get anywhere. And tired! I need a shot of energy.

Have I learned my lesson? Yes, definitely. Until the next time. Meanwhile I am still hoping to do the Port Dover bike trip on Thanksgiving Monday. Wish me luck!