I fell. Tripped over my own slippers and, yep, slam bam kissed the ground doing ninety. Hardwood doesn’t bounce at all by the way. However, at a certain age one must face the fact our bodies become a mystery. They do things we didn’t orchestrate or approve of at all. Yes, at a certain point one’s body becomes the Agatha Christie of your existence. Things begin happening that come from nowhere, make no sense at all and are completely unexplained. Not even Poirot could figure it out.
When I talk to friends I am regaled by stories of breaks, sprains, pains and conditions for which there is no explanation or reason.
It usually starts with, “I was just walking along and I have no idea what happened, but…I felt a pain and wound up in the hospital with something or other that came from who knows where.”
Who knew as we age we’d have to become Sherlock Holmes.
“Elementary Dr.Watson, you twisted your left ankle while you were running in your dream.” Aha, another great mystery solved by the great Sherlock.
I must admit it’s disheartening every time I pick up the phone and hear a voice of a friend at the other end in pain from a fall.
Everyone I know is working on their balance, looking for a comfortable shoe to wear and trying to avoid kissing the floor at 100 miles an hour.
Despite the fact we are all aware of the dangers of tripping over our own feet, as they say, Stuff Happens.
I recently was warned that the mule slippers I wear around the house are not safe. Okay, I dutifully went out and bought a pair of fuller slippers.
Long story short, that’s why I fell.
So much for trying to do the right thing.
The most difficult thing about reaching a certain age is not just the actual process of falling and the pain and danger it entails, but the fear of falling.
After a few trips to the floor there is a certain lack of confidence about the ability to keep your balance and walk safely.
It is probably this fear that actually leads us to second guess our own steps.
Let’s be honest here, by the time you reach a certain stage of life you’ve been walking for a hellava long time.
First, grabbing on to furniture and tables to lift ourselves up into that prone position we sought to achieve.
Then walking, running and standing become a pretty unconscious ability.
I must admit however that I have always had a proclivity for rushing about. Not thinking as I walk and just moving by rote. And yes, even when I was young it did lead to some bad falls.
Although when we are young, we heal quickly, so we still rush around, making mental notes about all the things we have to do each day. And if a slip or oops happens, some ice and a couple of days with heat did the trick.
Sadly, the whole heal quickly thing, not so much as you get older.
Where once we could scrape ourselves up off the floor and throw some ice on a wound, we now need not only help to rise, but lots of time and PT to heal. And sometimes paramedics are part of the equation.
So what can we do about this new reality we’ve grown into?
Is there never again to be the great freedom of running and dancing with abandon?
Or are we to walk slowly and meticulously through life, hoping against hope no one runs into us. That for a moment we aren’t looking down and miss that awful bump in the sidewalk where a rogue tree root has created a senior ouch trap.
I for one refuse to live life under the guise that I must look downward as I walk. That the sky and trees are no longer safe to observe. I insist there are certain ways to handle this unwelcome new place we find ourselves.
I know a lot of my friends refuse to use a cane because it ages one.
Yes, it sure does. I don’t care how young you look or feel, seeing someone sporting a cane adds ten years to their appearance.
How silly it seems to spend a small fortune on masks, make up and procedures to look younger and then pick up that cane as you walk out the door.
Yet, if you wish to ensure your balance gets the help it may need, it’s that old cane you need to grab. Sometimes it’s just not a choice. And there are some fashion forward ones today, so one could make it a style statement.
Other means of walking aids exist that will give you some help.
I myself have seen the walking sticks that some use. They give them the confidence and balance to move along quickly and safely. Actually, walking poles are cool. They look like you just got off the slopes at Aspen. In LA you could also use them to beat an attacker over the head. Just a little added bonus.
You look like Ms. or Mr. Outdoor person trudging along two handing it. Yep, that’s me, Mr. Staring-at-my-walking-sticks. I just got back from climbing Machu-Picchu? And a few days at Gstaad. And you?
Just to be sure to give off that I’m so outdoorsy vibe, wear a North Face, Patagonia or a backpack.
It’s like when we first had to wear glasses we tried to find the most flattering styles. Okay, judging from pics of me as a child it wasn’t always successful, but we tried.
I seriously believe that we, the Baby Boomer generation who took on anything and everything we wanted, and jumped in head first, don’t need to complain or explain anything.
Yes, falls are a bitch. Do they happen to even the most balanced among us? Yep. Can they set us back for a long time? Sadly, yes.
Will we be stopped by them? Hell NO!
We are Baby Boomers and we take no prisoners. We fight our wars and win, we order our bodies into submission despite the backtalk, we were Mouseketeers, and we will not go gently either walking or falling into that good night.
So guys, whatever setbacks come your way, give them the old one two punch and twist and shout your way into the future. Whether alone or two handing those poles.
