I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up

As I laid there on my back on the icy driveway, staring up at the stark, early morning winter sky, I was in shock. I had become the meme from decades ago, ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up’…at least not right away. Except I didn’t have a personal alarm system of a lifeline pendant or wrist watch to notify anyone that I had fallen – and was in pain.

And why would I have such a monitoring system anyway? I am a fully functioning man that is cognitively intact (most of the time), that has led a healthy and active lifestyle my entire life. At 58, I have all of my own joints, I visit my family doctor once a year, and my last hospitalization was for a day surgery almost 10 years ago to have an abdominal hernia repair. In case you think I am serving up a humblebrag appetiser for you, please read on because I need to put this into the proper context.

So just how did I end up on my back on a cold wintery morning, in mid February in my driveway? Inquiring minds want to know. But do they? Really? Well, let’s just assume that you want to know. Humour me. Let me do some splaining. As part of my early morning routine, I turn our car around for my wife. This way, my wife won’t have to back out of our driveway into a busy street when she takes my son , along with our dog, to school each day. (To clarify, my dog doesn’t attend school – she is home schooled.) I ‘ve been doing this for years and almost feel like I could perform this task with my eyes closed. Almost.

Like most early mornings, I was dressed in my bright red pajama bottoms, a gray zip up sweatshirt, and green rubber boots. With the way I was dressed, I could have been mistaken for a cover model for GQ – Geriatric Quarterly.

As I slowly took penguin steps on the icy driveway toward our vehicle, I noticed that I had parked our RAV 4 a bit closer to our front walk than usual so I had to adjust my foot placement accordingly. Somehow, I had missed a key visual cue that would prove to be my downfall..literally. Under the cover of darkness, a build up of ice was doing its best impersonation of a luge run at Lake Placid and of course that is where I stepped with my right foot.

Before I knew what was happening, my feet in the pro-slip green rubber boots were swept out from under me and I landed directly on my right hip. The only protection I had to soften the impact was the flimsy 10/90 blend of cotton/polyester blend of my pajama bottoms. The same ones I could never wear close to any open flames.

During times like this, you really get to know yourself – you get to know what your ‘go to’ curse word is when extreme pain is inflicted upon your body. For some people, it might be the ‘S’ word that rhymes with fit. But for me, it was the ‘F’ word; the one that starts with F and ends with K, so we’ll just call it ‘firetruck’.

“Firetruck!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I yelled on initial impact, as the sharp, shooting pain radiated down my leg. It was like a branding iron that was hooked up to a car battery, was pressed against my hip. A high tide of nausea quickly washed over me, and then just as quickly subsided. The swearing was reflexive for me, almost obligatory in this case. It was as natural as an involuntary sneeze – and for a brief split second acted as an opiate numbing the pain. Once the nano second passed though, another wave of pain cascaded down my leg so I thought I had earned the right to yell out 2 more ‘firetrucks’, but this time at a slightly lesser decibel.

After about 30 seconds, I rolled onto my back into a pile of snow that was fortuitously placed there for my recovery. My initial thought was of our elderly neighbours, Lawrie and Clara. Wonderful people they are – they have been our neighbours for close to 20 years now, and we share a driveway with them. They often leave a window cracked at times, and I wondered what they thought of their neighbour throwing F bombs around like they were beads at Mardi Gras.

Then I did a quick physical inventory. Although my hip was throbbing, I was relieved that I hadn’t struck my head – my back and ribs were somehow unscathed, and I didn’t notice any pain anywhere else on my body.

Then after what seemed like 3-4 minutes, it was time for the moment of truth – it was time to stand up and see what would happen. Being a Physical Therapist, I had somewhat of a good idea what my walking would look and feel like if there was a fracture present. So I slowly rolled toward my left so that I was now on all fours in the snowbank, methodically waiting to see what the pain response would be.

In the meantime, on what is usually considered one of the busier streets in my town for both foot and vehicle traffic , not a single person or car travelled by during the entire incident. Not one. Probably a good thing as I looked like a senior citizen performing a downward dog maneuver,, in his pajamas, in the snow.

After bending up my right hip and knee, I was able to push through my right foot and extend my legs while pushing through the bottom of my thighs with my hands. I was up! As I gingerly shuffled back to our side door, I was optimistic. It wasn’t excessively painful to weight bear through my right leg and once inside I was able to perform an air squat with just some minor discomfort. Although my hip started swelling immediately, I didn’t think I would have to go to the ER to have it checked over. I was very lucky.

As I sit here 2 weeks later writing this blog entry, I am happy to say that the pain, swelling, and bruising have diminished significantly. I am also able to lie on my right side in bed again, which had been a favourite sleeping position for me. I really dodged one here and I am convinced, unequivocally, that my exercise habits over the years saved the day for me.

As we age, we lose muscle mass and bone density amongst many other things. I have tried to minimise these changes the best I can, by walking, and going to the gym 3-4 times a week. And contrary to the popular mantra “you don’t know squat”, I in fact, do know squats as I start every workout with them. That, along with a diet that includes a lot of calcium and protein has improved my bone density and preserved my muscle mass- otherwise I would be in my first week of rehab following a hip surgery. I would not be hip to that.

So as my 90 year old mother will say, “Mind as you go” which is advice that will serve you well too. Hopefully by reading this post, you won’t end up on your back, in your pajamas, wearing rubber boots, on your icy driveway someday, yelling ‘Firetruck!’.

As always, thanks for reading!