The Fall Part I

June 28, 2011

Summer break. 

The Big Guy had just graduated and was learning the ways of the lazy and the Butterbean was mastering the art of staying up all night and sleeping all day.  I was enjoying sleeping in: until 10 am just about everyday!

This particular Tuesday I had lollygagged in dreamland until 10:30 and when I awoke, I quickly realized I needed to put the dogs out.  Grabbing my phone and a couple of plates off the nightstand, I started down the stairs only to be stopped at the landing by my two schnauzers, Sadie and Emma, enjoying a skirmish two steps further down.  

Shooing them down because I didn't want to fall, I stood there momentarily until both had turned the corner and tore off into the kitchen.

Then I took one step...and missed.

First off, I did not know I could bounce.  For future reference, I can bounce.

Secondly, with that first bounce, I fractured my T11 and T12 vertebrae; they are in my thoracic spine if you aren't aware of their location.  I didn't have a clue where my thoracic spine was.  Just think, "middle" and you're right.

By the time I made it down to the second to the last stair, bouncing all the way, which is clearly not like jingling all the way, I could barely breathe.  This made calling the Big Guy for help nearly impossible.

For a full two or three minutes I practiced Lamaze breathing for the pain.  Hee hee hee, hoo hoo hoo.  I would punctuate my hee hoos with a wail.  It added to the drama.

Finally, I was able to begin banging the wall and within moments a clearly panicked Big Guy appeared at my side, instantly whipped out his cell phone and called the paramedics.  In all my years, I never saw someone go from terrified to calm and concerned and clearly in charge.  And he did it in mere seconds.

When I attempted to move, he appeared in front of me and with a firm but gentle grasp to the shoulders he said, "Don't."

I didn't.

Within a couple of minutes, the paramedics arrived, assessed the situation, with a sideways glance to the broken plates scattered down the steps and on the floor, and placed a cervical collar around my neck.

I know it's for my safety, but it is also clearly a device of torture.  Especially when it's 105 outside and the ambulance meant to take me to the hospital dies in the driveway...