It happened again.
I fell. Again.
Can you believe it? I’m pretty incredulous myself. So, here’s the story. Last Friday, I was walking down the steps when my feet just flew out from under me and I was on my back, on the stairs. Ouch is right!
Mistake #1: Walking down our hardwood stairs in socks.
Mistake #2: Walking down our hardwood stairs in socks without using the handrail.
Mistake #3: Walking down our hardwood stairs in socks without using the handrail while not paying attention.
So I fell. Hard. I totally knocked the wind out of myself, but managed to pull it together enough to call Tim and ask if he could come home. At this point, I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to lift August again, my back is hurting so badly. Luckily, August was ready for a nap, so we lay down on our bed and he napped while I tried to assess the damage.
I torqued the muscles in my back pretty good, but it didn’t feel like I’d done any skeletal damage, which was a relief. As Tim pointed out later, we were really lucky that I didn’t hit my head. As soon as he got home, he set me up with ibuprofen, the heating pad and the TV in the bedroom. Then he didn’t let me do anything for the next 6 hours, which was really nice. Yay, Tim!
By about 3, though, I was feeling a lot better and was more concerned about getting stiff by laying around than immobilizing myself. Anyway, long story somewhat shorter, it wasn’t long before I was carrying August around again, for better or for worse. And now I’m feeling almost completely better, except when I have to bend over to pick up something off of the floor.
I’m a much more cautious stair climber now, too.
That’s the story. Come back later this week when I reveal the awful truth: I’ve become a cloth diapering mommy!!!! Tim asked August the funniest question last night (after I started talking about making our own baby food): “Is Mommy listening to Grateful Dead music while Daddy’s at work?”