The Things that Happen to An Older Em
Yesterday I fell down the stairs. I dont think I’ve ever fallen down the stairs before. Ive fallen up the stairs in the past, but in my experience that doesn’t involve so much pain. Probably because when youre falling up the stairs you can look down in that eternal second before you land, see whats coming towards you and avoid the pointy things. Not to mention use those two useful things called arms to grab onto things like banisters (thats what theyre there for)and re-route your journey before its ends in full-face plant. This time, falling down the stairs, I was blind. I knew I was in the air, I knew Id have to land eventually. But not having eyes in the back of my head or go-go-gadget arms I couldn’t avoid the pointy things.
Falling down the stairs isnt something that happens to people like me and you, is it? Fit young, hand-eye co-ordinated individuals like us. Maybe it was that extra year I gained a few weeks ago. Falling down the stairs is what happens in the movies. In old movies people fall down black and white stairs and land in a crumpled heap and everyone assumes they are dead because of their excellent acting. In newer movies people fall down the stairs and are then rushed to hospital in an erractic, hectic ambulance film sequence, or if it’s very serious, like say everyone is depending on that person to make dinner that night, in a slow mo montage to sad, sad music. In thrillers, people dont fall down the stairs, they ‘fall’ down the stairs….
I didnt have an ambulance or any music, just two uncertain Swedish girls who must have heard my delicate body banging its way down, and who had come to stare at me from a safe distance of three feet. ‘Are you okay?’ one of them asked. ‘No Im feckin not. Im lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs’ I tried to say but I couldn’t speak. Now I know what people mean when they talk about being winded. I had no wind with which to speak. And I couldnt move, or mime. And there were Swedes staring at me. Why didnt they give me some first aid? Didnt Sweden invent First Aid? Oh no that was Switzerland. But Sweden has a cross on their flag that must stand for something.
Im writing this shortly after the fall when the emotional pain is still fresh and my arse still sore, so as to remember the small things. Like what went rushing through my head at the time. ‘Oh look Im falling’, ‘Why havent I hit anything yet?’ ‘Is this a dream?’ ‘Hey this is kind of like the log-ride at Rainbows end’ . On impact it crossed my mind that I might just have broken my back – a sort of innocent query – hey, what happens now if Ive broken my back and will be confined to a wheel chair for the rest of my life? Just small things like that. But then I moved and spoke and everything was okay. The worst thing is I have nothing to show for it. No impressive bruises or gashes, just a sore bottom, some emotional scarring, a renewed interest in the Swedish flag and a fear of ever wearing my slippery old ChuckTaylors again.
Tags: Travel
Em
Try being 50 and falling down the stairs – or rather trying to keep up with Antonia on our walks – what the hell did you do to her in Doolin – she is one “fit chick”…….but we aren’t having fun without you…I promise….we really aren’t…..not in the least………….no fun at all …………memory fades when you get to 50.
I didnt do anything. She was like that when I got her. Honest.
How? That is all I ask. How did you manage to ‘fall’ down the stairs? Were you stunned by something horrendous as you neared the top, teetered on the edge and the flew through the air? Or was it more of a bump bump de bump bump fall? Were the slippery chucks reeeaally to blame? Or has the little green leprachaun finally had his revenge? Or at least attempted revenge?
Maybe it was the booze ans she really just slid down.