I just experienced a fall which didn't infirm me anymore than I've already been: on a walker shuffling along waiting for the inevitable to happen. A small throw rug buckled up and caught my foot as I was moving from my bed toward the adjacent bathroom. Quicker, than I ever could imagine, face forward I fell. The crash was heard by my wife, Connie, in the living room and she came post haste. There I was prone on my belly tangled up in my walker bleeding from a cut on toes of my right foot while, all the time, wondering how the hell was I going to get up.
Once upon a time, I was considered quite a strong, powerful man who gained his prowess by working all his lifetime out of doors at physical labor. In my younger years I became tuned toward agility by playing organized sports both football and basketball. Today, two month from eighty years old, all that I had pushed into my body has withered away, gone forever. I now find myself on the floor bleeding trying to roll over to crawl to my bed and pull myself up on it. I couldn't do it!
I was unable even with Connie's help to pull myself up onto my bed. It's a harsh realization that a lifetime's strength has left you forever and you're now dependent upon others for your continued existence.
Connie called our son, Ronnie, who was a sleep having worked 11 to 7 at Dana. He arrived and surveyed the situation. From behind me he encircled my chest under my armpits with his arms and physically lifted me up and laid me on my bed. Thank goodness for a strong son ! There, Connie dressed my cuts and I tried to compose myself. The rug disappeared by the time I tried to shuffle out to the living room to resume a semblance of normal living. I'm somewhat conscious of moving more slowly now but I'm leery yet about what will be my final demise. Many oldsters die of complications from falls and I suspect I'm a good candidate to be one of these. My fervent hope is you will not be one of these, too. Take care !
Ronald C. Downie