Well, could I injure myself any further? I’m not going to look at today’s incident as neither negative nor positive. It just is, or rather was.
I can’t help but wonder if I am accident prone, or if I subconsciously like making the day exciting. For tic marks in the accident prone column much evidence exists. I don’t know how many times I accidentally kicked my father’s weight bench in the garage when I was a young girl. I must have split my toe dozens of times – the same toe, kicking that thing. In the past year alone, I probably have slammed my truck door on my leg a half dozen times. I still have a scar from one slam. I won’t even try to count the cracks, roots and curbs I’ve tripped over. Once I tripped over a curb when I was 8 months pregnant and laid myself out on the asphalt with bloody knees and palms.
On the other hand, I am adventure seeker. I have always been an adventure seeker. It wasn’t always in the wilderness. I sought adventure in roller skates, on flexi boards, on ten speed bicycles and roller coasters. When I was a young girl, my friends and I found much adventure downtown amongst the city buildings.
One thing I think is inherent to both of these things (accident proneness and adventure seeking) is haste. I often do things things with haste, and end up paying for it. Fortunately, I have been very lucky still having all my appendages and such.
Case in hand, this morning, I rushed about in haste – a usual morning, making breakfasts, packing lunches, etc. After getting the two young boys off to school, I returned home to finish up packing our eldest son’s lunch. I had not yet iced my foot, and it needed re-taping. So, I was limping. Then in a moment, a moment of haste I would do something that would scare my oldest son and my husband practically to death.
The paper towel holder was empty. That’s all. And I HAVE TO put a paper towel in my son’s lunches. Where do we keep the spare paper towels? In the highest cupboard in the kitchen. My husband can reach this cupboard, so can my son. I cannot. So I grabbed a kitchen table chair; I hoisted myself up onto it. Being that it was painful to put weight on my PF foot, I balanced on the chair with my good foot and leaned forward, reaching up to the cupboard. And then I began to lose balance. I’m not sure exactly what happened and in what order, but I recall moving my foot closer to the counter to help balance myself. That’s when I believe that the chair tilted and overturned. I crashed down onto the floor with a tremendous loud crash (this may seem familiar if you’ve read my blog before). I thought for sure I was going to land on top of a sideways chair. I didn’t land on it, but somehow I snapped one of the chair legs off.
I lay looking at the ceiling moaning, unsure what to move first. My back ached, my butt ached. My PF foot was cut-up and scratched. Of course my husband and son ran to my aid. They were dumbfounded as to why I didn’t ask one of them to reach for the paper towels. My husband of course was besides himself that I would stand on a chair balanced on one leg. “We need you!” he hollered. Then he went on about me being 48 (I’m 47 by the way, he likes to round up) and climbing trees, sliding down mountainsides, etc., etc. He was not happy. I’m hoping soon he will be able to laugh about it any day now. But he did make me promise to never stand on a chair again.
My son got over it quickly. My husband, not so much. That’s understandable. For a while after the fall, I felt like vomiting. I examined my head to make sure that I didn’t hit it, and I found no soreness whatsoever. I want to laugh at this, because it is rather funny . . . funny and stupid. After running errands, I returned home to ice my foot and re-tape again. Then I took a 3 hour nap, so, so worn out I was from today’s mishap adventure.
I don’t think I’m accident prone. I merely need to be more careful and not make haste. HASTE MAKES WASTE. That’s what I always heard as a little girl. And it’s true. It is so true. : )