The Great Hop Backwards
I recently had Achilles Tendon Surgery. Afterwards I have to be non‑weight bearing with my left foot for 4 - 6 weeks! Yesterday was my first post‑op doctor’s appointment. It went well, and when we returned, everything was supposed to go exactly as it did the day I returned from the hospital after surgery. We had a plan in place, which is exactly why chaos RSVP’d!
Roger wheeled me up the ramp in my wheelchair like a tugboat guiding a ship safely into harbor. Then came the tricky part: pulling that tugboat into the dock! There are two steps leading into the house from the top of the front deck. Our plan worked fine. I got out of the wheelchair near the front door, next to those steps. Roger had a walker ready to steady myself, so I could hop backwards up each step. Roger stands guard like Fort Knox protecting its gold bars, to keep the walker from tipping forward. Voilà! I’m inside!
I was just inside the doorway, standing there on one foot like a flamingo auditioning for America’s Got Talent (only I’m not that graceful). I realized Roger couldn’t get the wheelchair in with me standing right there like a human doorstop. So, in my warped brain, the next plan was simple: take two hops backwards because I didn't want to risk turning in the narrow vestibule as it would require way more hops than hopping back only 3 times, and that's enough room for him to bring in the chair. Then I can sit down like a queen returning to her throne proudly, like she just won a war!
Well… reality had other plans.
After the third hop backwards, I lost my balance (how one does this while holding onto a walker with both hands is beyond me, but it’s also SO me — And down I went!
To add insult to injury, as I went down, I hit the back of my right shoulder, elbow, and upper arm on the wall at the end of the vestibule, like a linebacker slamming into a goalpost! Then I landed flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling stunned. I said to myself, “Well, this is familiar!” Why is it familiar? Because this wasn’t my first rodeo.
Right before the fall, and just after I stopped hopping backwards, I put the bad foot down (a big- no no) but it was only for a nano - second. Luckily, it’s wrapped so well - even King Tut would be jealous! However, it saved me from any damage to the surgical foot.
Now came the puzzle: how do you get a 200‑lb. woman off the floor when she can only use one leg. Roger couldn’t lift me because I was sandwiched between two hallway walls like a sofa stuck in a stairwell - so we improvised. I rolled onto my tummy, tucked my good leg up under me, and Roger supported me under the armpits like a load‑bearing wall with doubts in its blueprint. I pushed up with my good leg (picture a clumsy yoga move crossed with a circus act), but hey, it worked!
The rest of the day I seemed fine… until after dinner. I wheeled into the living room, to get into my rented hospital bed, and suddenly the foot started zinging - like a string of Christmas lights with a mischievous short, that blinks at a failed audition for Vegas! Then came the ache on the top of the bad foot. Then the arm joined in. It was like my body was orchestrating a flash mob without rehearsal turning into a chaotic, dance routine) gone awry.
I debated Tylenol versus the “big guns” pain med they gave me for home selfcare. I hadn’t touched them in 8 days, but the aches were winning, so I opted for the pain med. Thankfully, it calmed the flash mob down.
Today? Just sore with no serious damage. Basically, I'm left with a bruised ego and this story that proves once again that in my world - even just getting through the front door can turn into a fiasco (pun intended).
The Takeaway: Sometimes life hands you a fiasco, and you just have to laugh it off and keep hopping forward! Roger and I may not win medals for grace, but we sure win for teamwork!
Story Two: The Flip Flop Fiasco
Flashback about three years ago. I was getting ready to leave for my part‑time receptionist job at a local hair salon that my friend owns. We will call her Ellie. I had 40 minutes to spare, but those minutes flew by like a pizza slice at a teenage sleepover! Suddenly, I had five minutes to get there, but it takes 10!
I rushed, flip flops on, keys in hand and my pocketbook sitting on the dining room table like a cat pretending it pays rent. As I darted from the kitchen to the dining room, my flip flop caught the corner of the garbage can. Next thing I knew, the floor was coming at my face!
In that nano‑second, as I was falling, my brain screamed: “Twist your body, bitch!” And I did — landing hard on my left shoulder instead of my face. It hurt like hell, but I got up, grabbed my bag and left.
At work, I said nothing to Ellie about it. I just quietly tested the arm from behind the reception area. It didn’t lift far and hurt more when i tried, and I knew I most likely dislocated it (another familiar territory). But the dedicated working girl in me said to herself: the left shoulder doesn’t hurt when it’s still, and I’m a righty, so get to work and deal with it later.
I did my 2 - 3 hours of business as usual. As I was leaving, Ellie asked what I was doing with the rest of the day. I said: “Heading to the doctor, because I’m fairly certain I dislocated my shoulder this morning!”
She whipped her head around mid-haircut and said: “And you came into work today?” I replied: “Of course I did, because staying home would just give gravity another chance!” 😂 And then I left.
The Takeaway: Sometimes life hands you not one fiasco, but two — and you just have to laugh, improvise, and keep moving. Whether it’s hopping backwards into a wall or twisting mid‑fall to save your face, the real win is turning the chaos into a story worth telling.
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Forks
& Fiascos Meter Table (Double Trouble Edition) |
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even supervised she gets hurt!!!! i really need to wrap her in bubble wrap, or like John Travolta in Bubble Boy.....
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