It has been about two years since I became a senior citizen. The time has just been flying by.
I have not even had the time to prepare a “bucket list”. Honestly, I really didn’t think I would ever prepare a “bucket list”, but I think there are some items senior citizens should expect to do as they advance in age.
Last night, I crossed off an item on my “bucket list”, if I actually had a “bucket list”. I fell down the stairs. I wish I could tell you I was tripped by the dog, fell over a stuffed animal, or even was pushed down the stairs by someone (more about that later), but I simply fell down the stairs.
Most residential stairways have about 13 steps. Last night, my feet decided not to use steps 2 through 7. The problem arose when my feet did not tell my brain they were in a hurry and they were going to jump. I think my feet were actually trying to jump from step 2 to step 13, but they forgot to alert my brain, which had no chance to inform my right hand and arm; which had decided it was a good time to hang onto the railing.
With my feet were flying towards step 13; my hand and arm grabbed the handrail and hung on. In theory, this sounded like a good idea. Except for the part when my body hit the steps. HARD! Hard enough to wake Elaine and the dogs. Not any of the kids, just Elaine and the dogs.
I think I have reached that stage in my life that my brain has remained sharp, it is just a shame about my body. My brain knew exactly what was happening. In that fraction of a second, I remember thinking, “Oh, this isn’t good. Oh, No! Man, that really hurt!”
When the adventure part of this story ended, I yelled, “Ouch!” If there was ever an appropriate time for loud construction language, this was it. I didn’t use any! Is it possible that pain made me forget the words that enabled me to survive in the construction world for more than 35 years?
Elaine jumped out of bed to see how badly I was hurt. Maggie, my alarm clock, beat Elaine to me. Maggie tried to help me by licking the blood of my scraped shin. I’m not sure how I landed on my right kidney area and scraped my shin in the process. (It would have been nice to have a surveillance camera.)
Elaine screamed, ”Monner, are you OK?” I couldn’t answer. Elaine asked, ”Where are you hurt?” I couldn’t fib. “Everywhere, my hand, my back, my leg, I hurt everywhere.”
Elaine is a pretty good nurse. She got me back in bed, gave me a couple aspirin and orange juice. Don’t tell her, but after she went back to sleep, I got up and had a shot of whiskey. Hey man, I was hurting! That’s what the cowboys did in the old days.
Getting back to the getting pushed down the stairs part. Not one of the kids woke up during the nights commotion. In the morning, Elaine told them what happened while they were sleeping. When I got up, Girl Twin asked me what happened. My ego might have got the best of me. I didn’t want to admit I fell down the stairs. I told her, “Grandma shoved me!” Not surprisingly, Girl Twin didn’t believe me. Boy Twin might have believed me. We have a boys against the girls thing going on in our house. Oh well, at least I tried.
I would suggest if you are preparing your “bucket list”, you might want to leave this item off. Unless of course, you drink whiskey.
Oh, by the way, Ivy suggested (Now that I’m back playing construction she is getting bossy.) this past week, I might want to write something about yarn and the store. After all, we are a yarn store. With that in mind, come see us at the store.
Our crazy lives!