Fall
Fall—the action, not the season.
So far in 2023, I’ve fallen four times. The first was in the bathroom as I was drying off from a shower. My left leg simply collapsed. I crumpled and through sheer luck, my head ended up between the bathtub and the toilet. I lay there for a minute or two, then gathered myself and got to my feet.
The second time was in the underground garage where I park my car. It was dark, and I failed to see the curb I was stepping off. Again, luck intervened. Years of martial arts training allowed me to roll forward and not injure myself.
The third instance was in National airport. I had not been there in years and failed to realize the distance between gates. I was shuffling forward like old people do, when the toe of my right shoe caught a crack in the pavement. I was less lucky that time. I was carrying a knapsack and a small rolling suitcase. I fell and cracked two ribs.
The fourth and last time was two days ago, very early in the morning before sunrise I got up from bed to go to the bathroom and tripped over a shoe on the floor. I sprawled, cursing, and wacked my head on the ground, causing a very minor concussion. Just a few days earlier, a neurologist had told me that the chemo I underwent probably caused peripheral neuropathy, which in turn is affecting my balance. She signed me up for rehab sessions after noticing that I swayed when standing upright with my eyes closed. In a way, I feel that whatever senses are holding my body together are deserting me. The latest is equilibrium. I’m told that when I walk, I have a Popeye gait that is sort of comical to watch. I’m okay with that. Swaying is better than stumbling…
Last night, I was thinking about the word fall. We fall in love and, like the song says, we fall apart or to pieces. Afterwards, we might go into free fall. We fall behind, into and out of; we fall from grace; we read about the Fall of the Houe of Usher and the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire. Fall-out is nasty, as is taking the fall for someone else. Things fall through or into the wrong hands, and we fall short. And of course, pride comes before the fall… Entire webpages are devoted to fall, which makes me believe that it’s an important four-letter word.
Once again, I digress. I do that a lot lately. I may have hit my head harder than I thought.
So far in 2023, I’ve fallen four times. The first was in the bathroom as I was drying off from a shower. My left leg simply collapsed. I crumpled and through sheer luck, my head ended up between the bathtub and the toilet. I lay there for a minute or two, then gathered myself and got to my feet.
The second time was in the underground garage where I park my car. It was dark, and I failed to see the curb I was stepping off. Again, luck intervened. Years of martial arts training allowed me to roll forward and not injure myself.
The third instance was in National airport. I had not been there in years and failed to realize the distance between gates. I was shuffling forward like old people do, when the toe of my right shoe caught a crack in the pavement. I was less lucky that time. I was carrying a knapsack and a small rolling suitcase. I fell and cracked two ribs.
The fourth and last time was two days ago, very early in the morning before sunrise I got up from bed to go to the bathroom and tripped over a shoe on the floor. I sprawled, cursing, and wacked my head on the ground, causing a very minor concussion. Just a few days earlier, a neurologist had told me that the chemo I underwent probably caused peripheral neuropathy, which in turn is affecting my balance. She signed me up for rehab sessions after noticing that I swayed when standing upright with my eyes closed. In a way, I feel that whatever senses are holding my body together are deserting me. The latest is equilibrium. I’m told that when I walk, I have a Popeye gait that is sort of comical to watch. I’m okay with that. Swaying is better than stumbling…
Last night, I was thinking about the word fall. We fall in love and, like the song says, we fall apart or to pieces. Afterwards, we might go into free fall. We fall behind, into and out of; we fall from grace; we read about the Fall of the Houe of Usher and the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire. Fall-out is nasty, as is taking the fall for someone else. Things fall through or into the wrong hands, and we fall short. And of course, pride comes before the fall… Entire webpages are devoted to fall, which makes me believe that it’s an important four-letter word.
Once again, I digress. I do that a lot lately. I may have hit my head harder than I thought.
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