Indian Names

If there was one thing that I wish I'd left behind in the move it's my natural inclination to "slip" every so often.

It's no secret: I fall down.

A lot.

It sometimes feels that I fall down just as much as a kid who is learning to walk, except they don't have as far to fall and they've got a little padding called a diaper that helps to break some falls.

In seminary a Kroger was re-named "Slippery Kroger" because of the number of times I found slick spots in their isles. They were so afraid (the first time) that I was going to sue, I even got a call at home checking to make sure I was ok. The building is now an antique mall, but when we are back in Decatur, Frank (who wasn't even in my life at the time of the incidents) points it out and says, "Hey, look, the Slippery Kroger!"

Ha ha.

A few years ago I fell in such a weird way that I was able to blame a broken ankle and leg on my 100lb.+ dog. (spiral fractures are fun! so are the metal pins they leave in your leg!) It happened early August. It was November before I was off the crutches. I even managed to wipe out on the crutches, it was pretty.

It's not like I don't come by this naturally. None of the women in my family are what you'd call "steady" in the keeping both feet on the ground department. Come on Mom, fess up, how many times have you fallen? Can you say "Happy Texas"? My maternal grandma also had her "flights of fancy".

So yes, my Indian Name is "She Who Falls Down"; I did not leave it behind as I'd hoped...Now SWFD lives in Chicago. A city that has had 20+ more inches of snow this year than normal. Before yesterday I was please to report that while there has been some slip sliding close calls due to the ice/snow, I had not, until yesterday afternoon, fallen.

Yesterday afternoon didn't involve my carrying Zane (THANK GOD!) or stairs (of course stairs are rarely my issue. However, I did bounce and skid on a non-icy concrete surface.

I had put the boy down for his nap, went outside to put the trash in the dumpster, then walked around the building to get the mail...a new way for me to go. Got mail was walking back AROUND the building and a 1.5 inch side walk step jumped up and bit me. I stumbled, my birks FLEW off my feet and I landed and skidded on my right side. I kept the mail in my hand though! Bloody knuckles on my left hand (my engagement ring was torn up), edge of my thumb to my wrist on my right has some degree of bloody scrape-attude.

These are going to be annoying wounds to heal. I had to hold right hand up to keep it from dropping blood everywhere. Luckily just that morning I had just found the MAJOR first aid supplies (like tape, although I guess packing tape would have worked) and spent 30 minutes cleaning and bandaging my wounds. It was just enough time for the adrenaline to wear off and for my right arm to start noticeably throbbing. Last night I discovered a scrape and bruise on my knee and leg. Poor me.

I waited to tell Frank until he was on his way home (no need to worry him with something he could do nothing about). Even so he thought I was being a bit melodramatic (I'm not preaching these days, so my drama has to go somewhere). I was honestly a bit scared as I was picking myself up off the sidewalk. I went through the mental list of who could I call if I've broken something, it was very short, and would they arrive before Z wakes up?

Today I'm sore and noticing new bruises popping up. But Z and I are doing just fine. We even picked Daddy up after work yesterday and went to a pot luck at a church we've been going to up here.

Z will be going down for an afternoon nap soon, do I DARE go get the mail? She Who Falls Down needs to stay on the couch and rest. *I* need to go get the mail.

Addendum:
Having just gone out and gotten today's mail I must report that said step was about 3 -4 inches tall. I will admit that it was not the step's fault that I fell. I don't pay close enough attention to small details like that. Something about seeing a forest but not the trees.