So I stopped at a gas station on my way home last night. As I walked toward the store to purchase the winning lottery ticket, my foot stepped on the edge of a dip in the ground and turned and down I went, breaking every bone in my body. Okay, maybe I’m being a drama queen about falling on the ground. But it hurt like hell.

As I pitched forward, I put my arms out to catch my fall and I fell on my right arm. And I fell on my knees and my momentum carried me until I landed on my ass. All the while I’m looking to see if any cars were coming to run me over since all this was happening, not next to a gas pump, but right in the “middle of the street.” I really wanted to sit there for a minute, but wouldn’t that have been a lovely end to this evening? Getting run over by a car because I fell in the middle of the street.

And to add insult to injury, I nearly fell again when I stood up. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I had been drinking. I’m sure I provided entertainment for a number of people sitting in their cars, none of which offered to help. But I righted myself and continued my walk to the store to purchase my winning lottery ticket and some gas.

But immediately, my body told me that I was no longer the spring chicken that my mind likes to believe I am. My knees hurt. My back hurts. My right arm is throbbing, from my wrist to my shoulder. Both ankles and hips hurt. And my ass too. But wait…I caught a cramp, a Charlie horse. Really?! I got a cramp too? Ugh!

As I get older, I am constantly reminded of a few things:

  • It hurts when my body does things that it doesn’t like, i.e. falling on the ground.
  • I can’t see too far without squinting just a bit because almost shutting my eyes makes the world so much clearer.
  • I often forget what I’m saying in the…umm, what was I saying? (You had to know that I was going to do that, pretend to forget in the middle of my blog.)
  • I need to keep a bottle of pain management medication in my car for occasions when I lose my footing in a gas station parking lot.

So I’m still a bit (a lot) sore. But the medication that I took is working its magic. Yay! Moral of the story — watch where you’re stepping at the gas station.

Be safe. And watch your step.

Blessed be!


About Camilla

I am a mom, a librarian, and a student.
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