During the past few months the amount of my falls has become frightening. Of course, not with me, but apparently it does scare the doctors. My first of my worst falls came on a Tuesday June 14, 2018. While I tried to get to the sink in the kitchen, I tried to take a right out of the dining room, but as I began to fall my feet kept going and I ran smack dab into the corner of the kitchen counter and the force of the fall made a deep gash at eyebrow height. My right arm landed in the trash can. It was a blessing that the counter did not go into my eye. I pulled my armout of the trash can and struggled to get up. Before I could get up, the amount of blood on the floor suggested to me that I should try to stop the bleeding and then stand up. I had forgotten how hard it was to stop the flow when you gouge the forehead.
I threw my hand over my forehead trying to find the bleeding and stop it. I found the gash, put my hand over it and then I stood up and ran to the bathroom to get a clean washcloth and put pressure on the cut to make it stop. When I got it stopped, I looked at it in the mirror, and it wasn’t real big. Then I went to the neighbor and asked her and her daughter if they thought it needed stitches. I don’t remember how I got to the hospital and home again.
When I got to the hospital the doctor asked me how many times I had fallen in the past month. Naturally, he asked this while he was poking me with local anesthesia and I told him that it was ten to twelve times. After the doctor heard that, he had an alarming look on his face, and I asked if that was a lot.
I did get the royal treatment. A wheelchair is how I got to the trauma room. There I was stitched and after that I was wheeled into the CT scan room to see if any of my brains fell out. They didn’t fall out, so onward I went in my chariot to the x-ray department to see if I had broken anything. Yup, they found 2 fractures on my humerus bone and that was not very humorous. I still kept an optimistic attitude and listened to what the doctor had to say. All I heard was that I had a fracture of the humerus.
This is what I read online. See, they put the results of the findings of our records online in our personal accounts. 1 Mildly depressed fracture of the greater tuberosity without dislocation. 2. Mild arthrosis of the acromioclavicular joint and a sub acromial spur, but the good news was 3 the soft tissues are normal.
After all this was done, I was put in a sling, and told to walk myself out of the ER. The royal treatment had ended. Oh well, I had walked out the door with a prize. The picture shows my prize.
Just 2 days later I fell again, only this time I fell outside on a cement sidewalk. I fell backwards and my head hit the sidewalk. That did it, “ouch!” I don’t remember much after that, but the friends that were there with me when I fell told me what happened. Apparently, I crawled into the house, and I fell 3 times once in the house. They tried to get me into the chair but all I did was keep sticking my head first in the chair. I then lay on the floor and told them to call 911. When the EMTs got there, I argued with them and I finally agreed to go to the hospital. They took me to Joplin but I don’t remember that, or anything that happened before that.
Neither do I remember all the CT scans, x-rays, nor any of the many blood draws they took from me. X-rays were taken from head to foot. CT scans were taken of my head and humerus, and I remember nothing. I don’t remember much until the next day and that is fuzzy. I remember that day walking a little, but not sure since nothing is clear.
From the hospital, 4 days later, I was put into a live-in therapy facility which was also a nursing home. After about 2 weeks, the Social Service Director came in and told me that they had to make plans for discharge and I would not be able to go home, but needed to go into assisted for the rest of my life. I was so upset about that I cried and told her that assisted living was totally out of the question. She told me that if I didn’t want to, I didn’t have to, but that would mean I would have to leave AMA and my insurance wouldn’t pay the rehabilitation facility either. She then said that I will stay another week and see what the doctor says.
The next week she told me that I could go home, but it wouldn’t be until the following week. Thank goodness that I got to come home. I was doing great while there, but now that I am home; I am starting to sway again. NOT good. I cannot afford to fall and break another bone. If I do, I will end up there and definitely not be able to come home. I certainly do not want that to happen. I still have a positive outlook on life, and can laugh about this because that’s how I am. All through both of these difficult falls, I laughed at myself, I don’t take myself seriously.
Now, this is not unusual, you see; I was born in RI, and we in the New England states all have a sick sense of humor there. We laugh at things most people don’t, and they look at us as if we are crazy. Maybe we are, but at least we laugh at things when others might cry because of them. Which takes me to my mother’s second favorite piece of advice; she always would say, “When you laugh, the whole world laughs with you, but when you cry, you cry alone.” Isn’t that the truth? ;