This morning I had a little accident. On getting out of the car, my feet went out from underneath me and I fell like a proverbial sack of spuds. A combination of very smooth Tarmac, no grip on the soles of my sandals and rushing to avoid being late were the contributing factors.
As I went down onto the Tarmac, I twisted my left ankle but it was my right elbow which bore the brunt of the fall – it hurt. It hurt a lot in fact. The shock of the fall rendered me unable to move and despite being in the middle of a (thankfully quiet) road I just sat there. After banging on the side of the car, my husband rushed out to help me up – he and our boys were oblivious to my plight – they just thought I was taking a while to open the child-locked rear doors!
I’m very pleased to say that I’m ok. After a lie-down, a cup of tea and some painkillers I’m aching but fine and counting my blessings. As I was being driven home, and for the first hour or so afterwards all I could think of was ‘how can I function if I end up in plaster?’ – I was convinced I’d properly hurt my arm, you see – the pain was unlike anything I’ve experienced before.
How would I be able to do the school run tomorrow if I can’t drive the car? How would I take the boys to after school activities? How would I make their packed lunches or iron their uniforms? And more selfishly; how would I paint? Crochet? Sew? Or write?
It’s a cliché I know, but I really do take so much for granted. How scary that a simple act of slipping on the floor can potentially take so much away from you – your ability to be independent and to be able to help others. So, today and tomorrow, when undoubtedly I wake up aching all over, I am and will be so thankful that I had a lucky escape – for so many, a fall doesn’t turn out so well.