Great Fall of 2008

Early October. Indian summer. Leaves changing colors with each stroke of God’s brush. All is well with the world. I [Steve] tuck myself into bed after a glorious day.

Midnight alert. I am hungry; I am thirsty. Out of bed. Upstairs for food and drink. Going back downstairs. Lose balance. The Great Fall of 2008.

My wife, Patty, heard a loud thumping noise at midnight and came running. To her horror, she saw that I had fallen down the stairs yet again. There I was at the bottom of the stairs. I had fallen from about the fifth stair from the bottom. With gravity and physics being what they are, the fall’s effect was magnified 10 times.

My wife and I are continually suffering accidents. We’re not those extreme sports people who are expected to have extreme injuries. We are simply trying to make our way through life. People will tell you we are terrific wimps. Don’t believe them. We are true Victims of Pain.

I was transporting my beverage in a large insulated cup. The really hard, brittle plastic type. Not the soft squish-as-you-wish plastic. Upon impact the cup shattered into devilish shards which slashed long bloody scratches into my abdomen. I landed hard on the right side of my ribcage, the cage which God had the foresight to create to protect one’s heart. My knees had multiple layers of skin burned off
(i.e., they were scraped). The tip of one finger was painfully smashed. But most dramatic of all was the fork event. I had been carrying a fork which complemented the consumption of food. The seemingly-innocent eating instrument I had been carrying showed its true nature and embedded itself into my chin. I released my hand from it, but it remained in my chin. A little tug and it decided to come out under such physical duress. Its departure was followed by copious amounts of blood.

I am not making up any part of this Great Fall. The fork incident may have been the strangest, grossest thing that has ever happened to me. Ironically, it was the only injury which never caused me pain.

Patty got me to bed, cleaned up the blood, patched up my knees, and stuck cotton balls into the holes in my chin. (I am exaggerating here.) She gave me a peck on the forehead and said, in a sweet little voice, “Remember, Honey, it’s through pain by which we grow.” (Oh, I guess she said this after the visit to the doctor. What do I know what she said that night? I was nearly comatose from shock and pain.)

Though she said this, Patty and I are actually both very sensitive people, and the Witness of Pain suffers just as much the Victim of Pain.

Anyway, four full days passed with incredibly painful ribs and knees. Actually the ribs didn’t hurt too much if I kept my body perfectly still in certain positions to which my ribs did not object. Any movement, though, was knife-stabbing pain.

On the fifth day my ribs suddenly started feeling much better. I would not have gone to the doctor except I had already made the appointment.

I went to the doctor’s office. After they did much poking and prodding around my ribs, I have returned to my original pain level. I hate when they push down somewhere and you nearly jump through the ceiling. They push down again and casually ask, “Is this where it hurts?” Push. Another jump. “Right there, eh?”

In writing this, I am not looking for sympathy, though greatly earned. I also did not fall in order to have a blog entry on Roxie’s site. I am writing about the Great Fall of 2008 simply to help you, the reader. I want to use my pain for your benefit. If you should ever fracture or bruise a rib, follow these instructions:

1. Don’t move.

2. Don’t see a doctor. Other than inducing further pain, a doctor can do nothing to treat your injury.

3. Take sleeping pills and avoid wakefulness at all costs.

4. For pain, take two aspirin with Coca-Cola while listening to rock-n-roll or popular jazz. WARNING: This is not an FDA-approved treatment. Avoid heavy machinery, sharp objects and stairways during use of this treatment. Possible side effects may include, but are not limited to, runny nose, stinging eyes, systemic rash, migraine
headaches, rib pain, heart failure or death.

5. Never cough, sneeze, or hiccup. Boy, does that hurt.

By the way, I am currently pricing in-home elevators.