God yes! I have to finally accept the fact. The above words are true to the bone. Talking of fallen women, I am the fallenest of them all. Yes, I understand you deserve an explanation. What happened? Why did I stoop so low as to fall? The intriguing and interesting (maybe) reasons are not beyond imagination.
The classic take of this fallen woman began a few years ago when she was sleeping. She got up to relieve herself and found herself on the floor instead. With a leg that refused to bend and knee (u jerk) that was twice its normal size, for no apparent reason. It took a box full of pills and a visit to urgent care (that showed no urgency ) and a business class trip back to India to feel better. It is a much longer story you can read at https://myhumerousbone.wordpress.com/2022/07/01/on-your-knees-get-set-dont-go/
Undaunted by the mishap, a couple of years ago I decided to go shopping. I took a bold step out of the cab and gently twisted my foot. Not intentionally but maybe the foot had a mind of its own. Actually that is what happens when various body parts develop this condition called – I-will-go-wherever-I-want much like the troublesome teenager who refuses to listen to reason. Long story short, after some self medication, followed by a visit to the nearby orthopaedic, who cast me in a cast and left me to fend for myself complete with a cane for the next month. If that interests you, the detailed version can be found at https://myhumerousbone.wordpress.com/2023/03/03/break-a-leg-or-two/
The trend continued. A few months later, I started practising yoga, maybe it will improve the balance and make my muscles, or whatever is left of it, stronger and less fattier (or is it fatter). Yes, I made a mistake. I imagined I could exercise vigorously and get away with it, but shhh, the leg was listening. This time it was a twisted knee. Why the fellow decided to twist is anyone’s guess as dance and I never got along well. And decided that never the twain shall we meet. Maybe the knee is hard of hearing. 3 weeks of physiotherapy, learning to walk straight again and not look like a duck waddle, patience woman, thy knee will heal. Now the doctor and I are on first name basis, he knows I will be back soon.
And heal it did, but left its mark, it isn’t the same anymore. My right side acts a shade shadier than the left. And that is absolutely not right. I would have left it alone, if not for the fact that it is directly connected to the rest of my body. I think I may need to start walking with that book on my head, provided my neck can handle the extra weight.
My toe and little finger have also decided to join in the fun. They love to go on a banging adventure of their own, pitting against the door or any other piece of furniture in the vicinity and the stars look so beautiful, even during daytime. The piece of furniture can be a few feet away, but my feet with my wobbled walk will find its way there somehow and check it out. I spanked it too, but it seemed to rather enjoy that.
I have also realised that my legs somehow have an affinity with all the potholes on the road. I love my long walks but who knew even a nice long walk would come with a hefty price tag (aka the doctors bill). If there is a gap in the road, I have to measure it, here my foot refuses to behave the way it behaves with furniture around.
And recently Humpty had a great fall, the king of falls. Did I choose to fall? absolutely not. Socks are a culprit, I know since the socks and sandals came in contact with each other, but socks and floor also behave the same way, was yet to be determined. I was on the phone, the bell rang and I walked towards the door. I took a left turn and my body took a horizontal one and I found myself back on the floor with my fat thighs and elbow taking all the load. The only time I have ever been grateful for the layers of fat around my hips that make me look like a pear. I think the way I felt after the ground touched me was as if the earth quaked. Or did it shout in pain when a truckload of fat fell on it. The ball fell, bounced, fell again, thanks to Newton. Nothing broke, the fat acts as great shock absorbers, but I get to wear a pain patch for the next 20 days. At the ground level, that isn’t so bad after all.
Now I know I am a tragic figure doomed to wander the earth with the gait of an old person, drooping slightly on one side, hobbling in place of walking. Osteoporosis has befallen. I am the poster child of bone decay, almost like I took a wrong turn at the crossroads (or was it the pavement) and the ground is the next thing I saw. But walk I will, and meet all ye potholes and furniture. If I fall yonder, do pull me up and get me on my way to the next fall. Maybe I should christen myself water since water falls.
Now I have a guideline for the right behaviour
Step 1 : look before you step
Step 2 : learn to walk slowly.
Step 3: give furniture a wider berth
Step 4: Socks suck, lose them.
Step 5: if not, be ready for a fall-down
myhumerousbone 