Woops Too Late…
You know those edgy films where you see a slow motion shot whether that’s someone falling or dodging a bullet well that’s kinda my life, let me explain. I can not even count the number of times I have fallen over, tripped, stumbled etc hence the rationale for calling my site MS drunk.
The most recent exploits involved me clearing out my wardrobe and I certainly have more to talk about here. Imagine the scene, a bedroom with piles of clothes either staying or going all scattered around the bedroom, where only I would know what each pile was for. I needed something from my bedside cabinet which I went to collect then headed back to my wardrobe. As I rounded the corner, I knew I was going to go, its truly like watching yourself in slow motion whereby your legs say, ‘hey guess what I’ve had enough now’. I then, what can only be described as a face plant, fell into a big pile of clothing. As I lay there face down in my clothing, I was grateful for the soft-landing because I really didn’t fancy a broken nose even though it might have given me an excuse to make it smaller. So that escapade was fine, I laughed about it, nothing or no one was hurt or damaged and my ego was intact as no one had seen me. That was in the grand scheme of things what I refer to as a positive fall, the following episodes really were not…
So off I go just walking to my car in the car port, white jeans, obligatory converse and of course a hat. Now this would be the defining moment with the utilisation of one crutch, I had travelled down two flights of stairs left my apartment block and walked across the forecourt all good. As I entered the car port, I really started to struggle lifting my left foot so much so I was dragging it along rather like the character Paul Sheldon (James Caan) at the end of Misery. I was probably no more than 2m from my car and then it happened, I just went down full-on fall onto my knees and hands. I am alone in the car port, pheww so I attempted to go on to my knees and then lift one leg to 90 degrees, but it was not to be I had nothing to hold on to help pull me up.
I then assessed my situation and thought I could crawl to my car, open the door (keyless yay!), and pull myself onto the seat. Brilliant I had a strategy and then I heard voices, it sounded like a group of teenage boys, no way was I crawling in front of anyone! I sat on the floor with my legs crossed in front of me thinking please hurry up and walk on or whatever you are doing. Then I saw a tall gentleman walking past so I called out ‘excuse me, excuse me’, he turned around saying ‘hello, sorry where are you?’, ‘down here’ I called out, it was rather like a scene from Honey I Shrunk the Kids, except I hadn’t shrunk I was just sitting on the floor.
The gentleman kindly picked me up and helped me to the car, all the while I’m apologising and thanking him profusely. His girlfriend then came around the corner and it turns out she was a retired nurse from neurology, who knew! After everyone showed their concern about my white jeans and fabulous patterns of grit around the knees, I was able to get on my way. Now what is so delightful about this episode is that the very next day a post-it note was left on my car offering accompanied walks anytime. We really are a very kind nation at heart. This was when I realised I may need the temporary help of a rollator. Please note that I say temporary because you have to have goals, right!
The piece de resistance in this article involves a boat! For the last 7 years ohhh excluding the pandemic year I have holidayed on a fabulous boat on the Norfolk Broads. A total relax, limited mobile signal, good food & wine and thankfully sunshine. We were mooring up at a place called Ludham Bridge to await low tide in the morning to get under said bridge and head north. I had one job, step off the stern of the boat and secure the mooring line.
I had a gentleman fishing to my left and I’m not really sure how I manged it but I heard ‘man overboard’! Crap! That was me, I took my step into the water not the land, I was fully submersed. I can remember one hand grabbing me and literally throwing me onto the bank with a shouted warning, ‘stay there do not move!’. There I am soaking wet on the bank with my boat shoes still on my feet, my hat still on my head and one lost mobile phone. I could see a wry smile on the fishman’s face, oh well it was more action that he appeared to be getting on his fishing rod!
The Captain of the boat had made sure the engine was turned off, to ensure I was not chopped into tiny pieces, and ended up tying the mooring lines himself. I was then ordered into a bubble bath (nice boats on the broads) with a glass of vino waiting and no self-pitying tears allowed.
Falling is/was part and parcel of a life with MS but there are solutions. Ill talk about it later but since I’ve been strength training with Dom Thorpe’s MS Warrior programme, I’m certainly making inroads, falling less picking up my feet and having the strength to get up. Attitude and Application it matters!
