Several days ago, I fell, and I fell, and I fell again! Any one of those falls could have thrown me into major medical crisis; three falls in a single day is a record and one I hope not to repeat. Ever!
The last time I fell, sustaining an injury, a very serious injury, was in 1985. In a darkened hallway in my Charlotte Street apartment, I tripped over my black cat, who was lounging in the doorway to my bedroom. Down I went, part way into the room, just inches away from the edge of an antique spool bed. I was unconscious only briefly and upon coming around, recognized my predicament immediately. I was later found to have sustained a dislocation of my left/dominant elbow. Rescued by a neighbour, I was in the DECH overnight before being ensconced in the then Northern Carleton Hospital in Bath where my Dad did his doctoring thing.
For safety and recovery, I stayed for a month. Without a sound elbow, I could neither use crutches or propel the hospital issue wheelchair. My mother was also a patient at the time and Dad was enjoying this turn of events, asking her if she wanted a roomie. Yeah, right! While trapped in the ‘germ factory’, as I called hospitals, I got pneumonia and required antibiotics. The great escape couldn’t come fast enough.
It took almost a year of weekly range of motion therapy to get full elbow function back. From that point to this, when I sustained the triple falls, I had taken a few tumbles, but was never hurt. Jarred and shaken but nothing broken or even bruised. You might be wondering how I managed to land on the floor 3 times in one day.
My home is well organized, with ‘touch spots’ available for hands to land as I move about. One such touch spot was the fridge door handle. Some time ago, the top part of the handle developed a hairline crack, which had spread. Then, it finally happened. On the day of my great falls, the first was when I touched the handle for balance and it spun forward and was no longer attached to the door. I fell, hands outstretched, head thrust back to avoid a floor strike. Both knees hit the floor - hard! I crawled to the dining room table and hoisted myself up and carried on with my walk back to the TV room to my desk; too shaky to make my coffee.. I was not hurt. Hours later, I returned to the kitchen to make the coffee. I forgot that the handle was no longer securely attached, and when my hand automatically reached for the decades long used touch spot, I fell — again! That time, I fell to the right, wrenching my neck and right shoulder and doing a number on my full spine. Ouch! Again, I hoisted myself up. Nothing broken. No bruises forming. Mr. Malcolm, service dog in training, stayed out of the way. Good boy! I carried on with making the coffee, focusing my gaze on the handle on the freezer. That would be my touch spot. I kept looking at it until my brain set the pattern of movement. Success!
Alas, I was a bit premature. On a third trek to the kitchen, I had the most serious of the 3 falls the day. Reaching out for the now gone fridge door handle, I landed to the left, again slamming both knees on the floor. The elbow I had dislocated decades earlier took a solid strike. Pain shot through my arm, so I was a bit slower getting up, but I did it. Over the course of the day I experienced only slight pain in the chest; muscle strain. Nothing serious.
It’s important for old gals such as I to ensure that oft-used spaces in the home are safe and free of obstacles that may cause a fall. Falls with subsequent hospitalization due to fracture is common after the age of 60, though those of us with ongoing challenges to mobility have to be extra vigilant far earlier on. It’s said that falling once doubles the chances of falling again. Be careful out there.
Vertically mounted decorative towel bars on inside and outside walls of bathroom, bedroom or other room that are often frequented offers another layer of security. If challenges to mobility are more pronounced, medical-grade grab bars would be indicated.
Within the next few days, via an Amazon delivery, I hope to get a handle on things so that a consistent pattern of upright mobility will rule my days going forward. So far, brain training to redirect my eye and hand has been working. I know that I cannot afford another fall as it may not end well.
Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with Miss Lexie, a rambunctious Maltese and Mr. Malcolm, the boisterous Havanese. She can be reached via email at Carla MacInnis Rockwell
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