I fell down today.
It wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience, but falling usually isn’t (unless it involves extensive planning and bungee cords or parachutes). The stumble, the realization, the awkward flailing of limbs and rhythmless footsteps, the catch (where you think you’ll be okay), the run to catch up with yourself and try to look like a person that just decided on a whim to dance comically down the stairs, the instant where you realize again that you’re still falling, the mental sigh, the surrender… the ground.
I hit hard, then rolled over and just sat on the stairs, holding back gasps and tears that came both from embarrassment and pain. One of my residents called to me, asking if I was okay. It took me a minute to figure out how to answer. “I will be,” I said, then slowed my breathing down and shook out my limbs, as if that would somehow make them better. I sat for a minute longer, marveling at the fact that my perspective on the day had completely changed in the course of fifteen seconds or so. Then, afraid I’d be late to the meeting I was going to, I stood up (wincing) and limped away.
This happened a few hours ago. My butt still hurts, and I think I temporarily messed up both of my ankles/feet. I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up with bruises tomorrow. What upsets me most though is the fact that my brain has felt fuzzy since then, even though I didn’t hit my head. It’s been difficult to focus on things, which is a feeling I really don’t like having.
I’ll be okay though. I always am.
And on a completely different note, my toes got to feel the breeze as I rode to class on my bike because I decided to wear sandals (pre-fall). For some reason, this was one of the highs of today (the other being a discussion I had with my brother about smart phones post-fall, which really cheered me up). I don’t know why, but I’ll go with it.