Today's DHR - Getting Personal About Falling Down

I don’t have a specific disability history history event to write about today…so I thought that I’d get a little personal about something that happened to me this week.

All things considered, I came back pretty well from my stroke. I don’t have any use of my left hand, but I’ve adapted - I can do almost everything I need to with my right hand, and I get help with the things I can’t. I’m not the dancer I used to be, but I walk unassisted inside, and I can easily walk two km outside (with my cane) without a break. With breaks, I once walked ten km in a day.

But I do walk with a limp on my weak side, which is common in people with a stroke history. My left toe also drops when I’m tired, which I don’t tend to notice - this is dangerous, because if I’m not consciously bringing my foot up a bit higher to compensate for muscle fatigue, my left foot catches on the floor, pitching me forward.

That causes a fall.

Falling Down

That’s not so bad if it’s onto something like grass or pile carpet. But in the last few falls I’ve had over the years, I can guarantee that two were caused by tripping on my own foot onto pavement, and I’m not unconvinced that a third was (I don’t remember falling, and it was unwitnessed.) And, unlike the other times where I merely badly bruised my left eye area or needed Steri-Strips, the fall I took the other night required eight stitches to treat the gash l incurred when my eyeglasses got pushed up and into my left eyebrow.

There will be a scar. And not like the one on my thigh from the surgery I needed to repair the hip fracture I gave myself when I fell in the drug store parking lot four years ago. This scar is going to be visible and ugly. So, given that my left foot has caused me to trip in a way that’s permanantly marked me, I may have to rethink how I’m handling my disabilities, as one periodically does.

Thinking, thinking, thinking…

There IS a brace that helps keeps a weak foot straightened out. I even had one for a while; it hurt, so I stopped wearing it. I hadn’t liked wearing it anyway. But I was much younger then, and this is obviously becoming a problem. I may need to accept that if I want to keep walking around as much as I do, I may need a brace to stay safe.

Or…

I may need to accept that, if I want to walk without a brace, I can’t walk the distances that I do without resting more. Or that, if I know that I’ve been walking a lot in a day and I’m, say, about to carry groceries from a car to my apartment, I probably should accept help when it’s offered, so that I don’t have to worry so much about carrying bags AND staying upright.

Even though I hate hate hate hate having people help me. Always have.

*deep sigh*

I’ve been getting a lot of little off-hand reminders lately (from the way people talk about the movies/songs/TV with which I grew up, from encounters with adults in my community who I knew as little kids, from social media, stuff like that) that at 47 I’m…getting old, lol. Maybe this shiner and eight stitches is a reminder that I need to be taking better care of myself as it happens.

I just want to say that I’m also grateful:

• This could have been much worse than it was. I didn’t even really hit my head…I was clear enough right after it happened that practically my first thought was, “I need some paper towel or something so I don’t bleed on the carpet!” because I was in the hallway in my apartment building. My glasses didn’t even break. And all things considered, my health is pretty good.

• A neighbour found me almost immediately and called the ambulance, which was lovely of her.

• I had a great hospital experience - awesome paramedics, attentive nurses and a very thorough, professional doctor

• My PSWs, wonderfully supportive at the best of times, have been even more so this week. I’m so happy to have them.

Wish me luck as I sort this out! And send positive thoughts that I’ll stay on my feet at least until 2025, lol! ;-)

Sarah