I had my first fall a couple of weeks ago. I’m not entirely sure how it happened. One minute I was standing up and the next I was in a little heap at the bottom of my friend’s garden steps. As chance would have it I’d had a chat to Mr Tree Surgeon only days before about what might be best for him to do if I should ever fall. My knees try to give way with every step on bad days so falling has always been a possibility. I always cling on to the banister when coming downstairs too because my dodgy vision and the feeling of being off balance don’t make you feel all that confident about navigating your way sometimes.
So the fall. Luckily, a few days before, I’d told Mr Tree Surgeon it was probably best not to try to pick me up straightaway. Best to let me get over the initial shock a little bit. He did exactly that. After throwing both his beer and his phone onto the floor to get to me(!) he then sat with me for a few minutes while I ‘came too’. I couldn’t speak. Shock does that to me – the shock of waking up in the morning does that to me.
I’d scraped my arms and legs, and bumped my head. The bruises turned out to be quite disappointing actually 😉 but they’ve lasted a fair while. I was impressed by my body’s ability to form scabs though – a couple of years ago I had to see a haematologist because I couldn’t stop bleeding when I cut myself. That was a fun time!
I didn’t cry. Perhaps because crying is so exhausting or because my friend was there or because I’m super brave. But we had to leave sharpish afterwards. My pain threshold is ridiculously low now and pain is so draining. The rest of the evening wasn’t great. I felt a bit sick and very shaken up and fragile.
Shock and adrenaline are not my friends. At all. If someone accidentally makes me jump by coming up behind me for example, my heart rate increases, my breathing changes and becomes laboured, and my legs get weaker. It’s quite bizarre. Alas, adrenaline is like poison to me. And it is hard to convince my Broken Brain that once mainstream and normal events, such as the noise of the doorbell, do not warrant such a huge release of adrenaline into my system. It can actually feel it being released! It’s quite amazing really.
Contrary to the belief’s of some though, me falling over is not funny. If I was well I would have undoubtedly laughed it off, and I did actually. But falling and suchlike painful events have terrible consequences for me and my dodgy health. The effects last long after I’ve been picked up and brushed off. The adrenaline can leave me drained for days afterwards.
I’m okay. A little more wary of stairs and steps perhaps but thankful to still be in one piece, albeit a slightly battered and bruised one.
M.E. myself and I 