Thoughts on the word “walk”

Monday on the way home from taking Sadi for her morning walk, I fell to my hands and knees in the middle of the street. I so dislike using the word “fell.” It makes me sound old and as we all know I am not that yet. (snicker) What other word could one use to minimize the event? I thought of “took a tumble” or “a spill.” Though “took a tumble” sounds like I rolled which I decidedly did not. One could use “took a header” but that sounds worse. Thank goodness, I didn’t hit my head.

Basically, I tripped (there’s another minimizing word) over the curb and fell into the street. I was crossing Pathfinder to get to our house on the sidewalk in front of what we call the Henry house (not that the Henrys have lived there in decades, but that’s how John and I refer to it and we know what we are talking about. The kids do too. People in the neighborhood who have lived here forever would understand.)

Changed route

Sadi has taken to crossing the street before we walk the stretch in front of The Castle House where the sticker burrs grow along the sidewalk. The last time we walked there she had to stop three times to pull stickers out of her paws. I don’t blame her in the least for not wanting to walk that stretch of sidewalk. Sometimes I help get the burrs out but usually, she is like a two-year-old who wants to “do it by self.”

So, we crossed the street before the dreaded sticker burr sidewalk and I went down the hill further than I usually do to give her more sniffing time. After all, I may call this a walkie, but I’m pretty sure she calls it a “sniffie.” Thus, we walked an unfamiliar stretch of sidewalk.

The Fall begins

I started to step across the curb from the sidewalk to the street. Sadi didn’t come immediately with me. I turned to see what she was doing and took my attention away from the curb.

As I look at the curb now, the sidewalk has subsided below the level of the curb and I just didn’t step high enough to clear that half inch.

I stubbed my cheap-ass, soccer sandal on the curb and down I went onto my hands and knees. Not the best way to land. I know people who have broken wrists falling like that and catching themselves on their hands.

How to fall

Recently I read an article in the AARP Bulletin (Yes, I am that age) about how to fall. The self-help explanations of how to fall in that article were for the birds. Who has time to think of how to fall when you are falling? It happens so quickly.

How one falls would need to be controlled by muscle memory because my brain doesn’t work that fast. I told a woman who used to do roller derby about my fun fall and she said the first thing they learn is how to fall. Another person said that in basketball they teach the player how to fall when they take a charge from an opposing player. No one has classes for those of us who are “of an age” on how to fall with muscle memory.

On the ground

Fortunately for me, I was in motion so I skidded instead of falling directly on my wrists. The heel of my right palm took most of the fall and I have three places where the rocks in the asphalt of the street gouged out the skin. My left hand was slightly sore. Later, I found a scrape on my inner left arm below the elbow. I’m so pleased I was wearing capri jeans, which protected my knees. They were slightly bruised and scrapped, but not bloody. I’m sure if I’d been wearing shorts that would not have been the case.

After I landed in the street, I was stunned. I rolled over and sat up, but didn’t get up. The article I read about falling said to stay down, because you don’t want to fall, get up too soon, and fall again. Nope, I did not want to do that. Not that I felt like standing yet.

Happy dog, sad me

Sadi was so excited to find me on the ground with her. She jumped up to my face and wagged her tail. I, on the other hand, was less pleased to be closer to the ground and her. I petted her and then pushed her away. What to do? I cried a little bit and thought about it. No one was around. I thought about getting up, but honestly, I was a bit shaky and was concerned about moving on my own.

The thought of using that bleeding hand to push off the ground was not attractive. The left one wasn’t much happier about being used at that point. I always (if I remember) take my phone with me when Sadi and I go on our little ten-minute doggie-potty-break walks. I’ve always thought it was a good idea. Since I had remembered to bring it this time, I called John.

Call for help

In a weak little voice, I told him that I’d fallen and it would be nice to have some help getting up. He asked where I was and I said I was across the street from our cliff behind our neighbor’s truck. He said he’d be right there. I sat a bit waiting for him and when I saw him, he was haring off up the street. “Where the hell was he going?” I wondered. I called to him, “Here.”

I was glad he heard me when I saw him walking away from me. He turned and came to stand over me. Then he stooped to investigate my injuries. In a teary voice, I told him what happened. Then we had to get me up. My hands were hurt and one was bleeding, so I didn’t want to grab him with them. He wanted to get behind me, but I didn’t want that. Finally, I scooted over to the curb and put my less-hurt left hand on the curb to push myself up. Once I got on one foot and one knee, I let him help me up the rest of the way.

I asked him where he was going when he was going up the street. He said he thought I said a different neighbor’s house. Wow, ce didn’t hear or didn’t remember anything I said. I’m glad I was sitting where I could see him and could call him.

Home again

We picked up the dog leash, the dog poop bag, and three rocks I’d collected for my dry stream bed on the cliff. Bless John for not making fun of my picking up rocks and for being willing to take them along. We crossed the street to our corner where I had him throw the rocks into the pile on the cliffside. He thought Sadi was being a pain in the butt and going to trip us, so I had him take her off the leash. We were close enough to home that she’d just head for the garage door.

I was still sniffling a bit and John had his hand under my arm. We got me inside and, in the kitchen, I washed off my hand and the scrape I had on the inside of my left arm. John wanted me to put some antibiotic ointment on it and I agreed, so I went upstairs to get that. I put a big bandage with ointment on it on the scrape because it kept rubbing on my clothing. Then I just left the ones on my palm uncovered but with ointment on them.

That was my excitement for the morning. It could have been much worse. The following is my list of the things I was grateful for the next day as I wrote my morning journal entry.

I am grateful that:

• I was not hurt worse from my fall.
• John was home to help me get home.
• I could call out to John when he came to find me.

P. S. The photos in this post were taken a few days after the described fall at my request. John did not take photos of me while I was hurting.