Did you know twice as many people die in trips and falls at home than in car crashes? No, me neither until I read the cheery news over breakfast yesterday. Now I have another thing to add to my list of worries that keep me awake in the wee small hours.
Foot drop is the bane of my life. I trip over flat surfaces, the cat, pavements, dust balls and just about anything else in my way.
At Christmas I tripped up the stairs, then fell backwards, smashing into my bookcase and landing like a squashed spider on the floor, books raining down on me. The bruising was spectacular, but I did find a book I’d given up as lost.
There’s no way of knowing when foot drop will strike. One day it leaves you in peace, the next it’s shoving you around the high street with abandon. People give me a wide berth, as hey, I could be drunk. At 9.30 am. Kerbs taunt me, potholes are a logistical nightmare when crossing the road and cobble-stones are pure evil.
Sorry Shakespeare, but I am never, ever going to Stratford-upon-Avon ever again. A lovely little day trip turned into a day from hell when I got out the car and saw cobble-stones stretched out in every direction. I clung to my friend for dear life and quite possibly looked as if I was being taken out from a secure unit for the weekend as I muttered, ‘evil, evil things, I hate you’ under my breath every few minutes as he dragged me up the road.
Then there was the Gastro Pub Incident, when a friend took me out for dinner. A short stumble to the bathroom led to disaster as I cartwheeled across the floor in front of six bemused diners, ending up halfway under their table. To compound my misery, my friend hadn’t even noticed as he was too busy scrolling through his phone. I limped back to our table, face burning, sniveling with pain and embarrassment.
Anyway, the good news is, the sixth most common way to die at home is by drowning in the bath. Thank you, MS heat intolerance for making baths a thing of the past. At least you’re good for something…