FALL WARNING! BIFOCALS ARE DEADLY!

 

Since last November I have been teaching yoga via Zoom to a group of about a dozen women I've known for years.  Attendance varies, but many are very faithful to our weekly class.  When I started to teach I asked what they'd like to focus on....they said, "knees", "hips", "balance".  Can you guess we are an older group?  But at any age, keeping every part of the body strong, flexible, and in balance serves us well.  

(Mandatory teaching moment: Of course, yoga isn't really about the body.  It's about calming the fluctuations of the mind.  The ancient yogis addressed the body as a way to get the body in shape and keep it healthy and strong (and not distracting) so one could sit in meditation with ease.  Here in the West yoga has become just another physical exercise to try, like Zumba or Jazzercise.  That's not the purpose of yoga, but OK, a healthy, stronger body is a "perk" of the practice.)  

Each week I lead us through an asana practice (the poses) to help us get stronger, more flexible, and more balanced.  For older folks in particular this triad is essential to helping us stay independent.  One fall can be the end of living independently should a severe injury result.  And as we get older, for many reasons, falls are more common.  

Actually, ask me about falls.  

One year, heading up the escalator at the Hawaiian resort where we'd been staying I was trying to wrestle my suitcase onto the tread, with a heavy backpack on my back and a purse slung across my chest.  The suitcase slipped and twirled in front of me, tripping me as the stairway took off upward and somehow, by some miracle, in spite of what had to be a comical (to others) dance of avoiding disaster, I righted myself and did not tumble down the upward moving staircase.  I credited the muscle memory of balance in my yoga practice.  

Also one night, some years ago,  I took a careless slide down our flight of wooden stairs at home in my socks.  Duh!  I was in a hurry with my mind in ten different places and took one step, sock to slick wood, and down I went....All. The. Way. Down. 14 steps.  I was VERY fortunate I didn't seriously injure myself as my right buttock/hip hit each step before I landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.  All I ended up with was a big bruise and sore knee.  I credited yoga for allowing me to tumble with injury-saving flexibility.

Then on our maiden trip to Great Britain two years ago I tripped over Hadrian's Wall in England -- or at least a chunk of the ruins that are little more than rocks in a field.  Down I went, but bounced right back up, again feeling my yoga practice kept me from splaying down face-first.  Also on that vacation I tripped over a shallow single step-up at the entrance of a pub in Inverness, Scotland and down I went, just to my knees (thankfully), but embarrassingly so.  (One would think most people fall OUT of the bar.)

Given my experiences, you might assume my yoga students will start to doubt me touting our practice as being beneficial to staying upright.  But I have begun to see a pattern that is causing my falling down habit.  I'm always looking down in these instances, to ensure I don't fall!  But my bifocals create a sense of "flatness" where I lose the 3-D depth perception so essential to seeing clearly the obstacle at my feet!

This happened again yesterday.  We were at the waterfront with our 6-year-old granddaughter where she was searching for "crystal rocks".  (There are none, of course.  Wrong geology, but whatever.)  I had head down, desperately trying to spy anything I could pass off to her as a "crystal" and tripped over a protruding chunk of breakwater rock and boom!  Down I went on hands and knees in the rocks, coming up with a classic "kid injury" of a scraped hand and knee, skin pulled away and slightly bleeding.  I started laughing about this silly injury and said I'd need a Barbie bandaid.  But this was also the moment I realized -- IT'S THE BIFOCALS AGAIN!

When I go for my annual physical I guess I'll have to confess a fall this year, but I'll know it's not my strength, flexibility, or balance causing the issue -- it's my glasses!  Does that count?  Well, I fear it does.  Bifocals are also an older age thing, so they present the same hazard as a throw rug or an electrical cord stretched across the floor, or clutter in the path to the bathroom -- all those things they warn us about.

But I'm still crediting my yoga practice for being able to take these falls and still come up swinging!  Fingers crossed that strength, flexibility, and the ability to right myself back into balance, even during a fall, is benefitting me.  I think it could be worse.  

I'm also wondering if I should go back to having reading glasses instead of the two-fer of a bifocal...  

At least that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

TAKING A FALL

Surprise.  When my stocking feet first slipped off the top step and my head hit the floor.  "Ouch!"

Denial.  When I realized I was falling, feet first, body supine, down the stairs. "No! No! No! No! No!"

Shock.  When halfway down I realized I couldn't stop myself.  "SHIT! Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Fear.  When I realized this was not a good thing and I was in danger of real damage.  "Don't break, don't break, don't break, please don't break anything!"

When I landed at the bottom of the stairs, Hub huddled over me, assessing my condition, I basically responded to the accident with my typical shock and trauma mode of crying and shaking and going into full-on anxiety over what had happened, what could have happened, what might still happen.

Then I took some deep breaths.  I realized I was really sore, really shaken, but also still whole.  Nothing broken; no concussion; I could move and stand and talk and even chuckle at the absurdity of this lapse in mindfulness.  I was reminded, again, of how one tiny slip-up in being attentive can result in an outcome of epically terrible proportions.

I had gone up to bed on Thanksgiving night when I remembered I'd adjusted the thermostat down to accommodate a hot kitchen full of people.  I wanted to re-set it, so I thought I'd just quickly run down and do that....not thinking of my slippery socks on the hardwood staircase.  I normally am religious about wearing soft-soled indoor shoes that grip the floor.  Not this time.  It only took one slip and down I went....all the way down...hitting each of the 14 steps with my right rib area, thigh, knee, and somehow jamming two fingers (which immediately turned purple!)

Hub said I looked like a log going down a flume run on Skid Road.  I felt like I was on a toboggan run...with no toboggan.  I think I heard myself scream at one point -- but not in joyful exhilaration.

I write now, three days later, still tender and bruised.  My knee is a little "glitchy" and I'm hoping nothing was torn on the inside.  Hub doesn't think so and he's sort of expert at knee stuff both professionally and personally, so I'm believing him.  Tylenol and Aleve have been my friends and I'm still so grateful not to have been injured more severely.

Also bruised, though, is my Ego.  I pride myself on my balance and flexibility from years of yoga practice.   I can probably be a bit insufferable about crediting yoga for everything good in my life, especially physically.  Hub thinks I should still credit it for the "muscle memory" of balance causing my body to fall in a way that resulted in minimal damage.  I could just as easily have completely lost balance and tumbled head over heels; I quake at the damage that might have ensued from that scenario!

But I am also humbled.  I have a home full of stairs.  I have always known we are one accident, injury, or illness away from not being able to easily navigate this house.  Sometimes I use the stairs as a workout opportunity, eschewing the handrail going up the stairs to ensure I'm not pulling up with my arms instead of using my quads to keep my forward momentum.  I typically use the rail going down, but not always, and definitely not when I'm carrying those bins of holiday decorations from the attic down to the living room.  Duh!

I'll be much more mindful from here on out.  Believe me, I've had a death grip on that handrail.  And my soft-soled inside boot/slippers are always on my feet when I'm navigating the stairway.

It was a wake-up call that accidents happen in a split second.  There is really no margin for error when it comes to carelessness.  My concern is whether I have to report this at my annual Medicare physical when they do that whole "Fall Assessment" thing.  I really don't think this was an aging issue. It was a stocking feet issue; a hardwood floor issue; a Karma issue...

Earlier in the day our almost 3 year old granddaughter had gotten her feet tangled in the Princess dress she refuses to take off (going on 2 months now) and tumbled down a few of our carpeted stairs.  She was so funny when she popped up and said, "I wolled and wolled!"  She wasn't hurt at all, so my laughter wasn't really cruel.  I just thought it was funny how she said it (the r's sounding like w's).   I was NOT laughing when I took my own tumble  -- until much later when I asked Hub, "Did I woll and woll?"

Karma is a bitch.

At least, that's the view from her.©

TAKING THE FALL

I think it was the power of suggestion.  I went to my annual Medicare Comprehensive medical exam appointment a few weeks ago and was given a handout on "fall prevention".   I read through all the long list of things to do to prevent falls in one's home and community and I tossed it aside, thinking, "It's all so obvious!  Sheesh.  Besides, I practice yoga.  My balance and agility are superior to most people my age."  (Well, OK, my ego didn't really get that carried away, but I definitely didn't think the list really pertained to me, so if I really did put words to my dismissiveness of the list, it likely would have sounded like that.)

Then this week, when I fell in my home two days in a row, I started to panic.  What the hell is going on with me???  Well, nothing that taking another look at that little list wouldn't solve.

Our home is taking on "childcare center" characteristics since we watch our little granddaughter two days a week (down from three, but still have to have all the equipment in place.)  She's walking/running/climbing on everything now so the baby gates are up at each deadly stairway to prevent her from tumbling down.  The one in this photo comes up from our lower level, where our laundry room is located.

Friday I was lugging the large laundry basket up the stairs, the one that really is too big and awkward for me to handle on a good day, being a woman of short stature.  It was piled high with a couple of loads of clothes from the dryer.  I didn't want to make two trips, so I muscled it up the stairway and got to the gate.  I don't like to move the gate because it's tricky to reinstall, so we've taken to just leaving it up all the time and stepping over it.  Easy, breezy unless you are carrying a heavy awkward laundry basket.

So, I got to the top, and started to lift the basket over the gate, throwing off my center of gravity such that I started to tilt dangerously backward.  I righted myself (thank god!) and decided to just lift and fling the basket forward and let the basket and clothes fall on the floor over the gate and I'd pick it all up once I was over the gate myself.  So the basket got flung forward, but my body followed, knocking through the gate.  In an instant the basket was upended on the floor, clothing strewn everywhere, the gate was collapsed and I was collapsed on top of it at the top of the stairs.

The list says many falls happen when one tries to carry in one trip what should be divided into two or more.  Duly noted.

Then yesterday, not as dramatic, but with the same result, I fell again.  We still haven't unpacked all the boxes we stored things in when we had our floors refinished.  I am going through them slowly to take the opportunity to do a deep clutter-bust of stuff we don't really need.  I had been working in my office yesterday, but had not finished.  Later in the evening I went in there to fetch something, without turning on a light because it was dusk and I could see just fine.  I grabbed what I needed, turned to leave the room and stepped on a metal vase holder thing.  I  rolled my foot over, lost my balance, and down I went.  Again.

The list says to always have good lighting and to never leave clutter on the floor, and most definitely not in your walking path.  Duly noted.

I am fortunate that in both cases I bounced right up, so I guess I can credit yoga for that.  My doc told me a "person my age" should get down on the floor 2-3 times a week and practice getting up.  I'm down on the floor dozens of times a week with my granddaughters and my yoga practice.  But it's a whole different thing being down there from a fall.  It's startling and potentially injurious.  I'm grateful I didn't hurt myself.  I'm going to study the list again, and not be so high and mighty with the "that would never happen to me" proclamations.  Better safe than sprawled.

At least, that's the view from here...©

SLIP-SLIDIN' AWAY

It's been established I am not a physical risk-taker.  No sky diving, rock climbing, extreme skiing, mountain biking, or knitting (They call them needles?!?  Really?!?).  So when I fall down, it really is an accident -- not something anyone would have predicted.

I've fallen on occasion in my life -- slipping on icy sidewalks, stumbling over roots and rocks on hiking trails,  missing a step coming down for my morning coffee, my dog jerking me too hard on the leash or cutting in front of me as we both bolted for the door for some reason, even twisting my ankle and taking a dive off a curb once while waiting for the "walk" light to come on.  Each time I am stunned to find myself on the ground.  Gravity is unforgiving.  YOU... WILL... FALL... DOWN!  There is that moment of panic:  Oh god!  What happened? Am I hurt?  Can I move?  Do I look foolish?  And then the taking stock as I wriggle a bit and try to find a way to pull myself upright, still taking inventory.  Finally, I am up breathing normally again, moving gingerly as sensation tells me where I've done some damage.  It generally takes me awhile to get going, with some groaning and rubbing aching body parts, accompanied by slow-motion movements, and pleas for assistance and sympathy.

I watch my "grand", "Angel", and she (at 2-1/2) falls all the time.  She practically bounces back to her feet,  often without skipping a beat in her determination to keep moving toward her goal.  Sometimes she does look a bit startled and might even pause to look to me to see if she should be concerned about herself in any way.  And of course if it's a particularly dramatic spill, she might shed a tear or two and need a hug of reassurance.  But for the most part, she is on her way within minutes, none the worse for it.  Often, when something unplanned and a little negative happens, she has taken to saying, with a shrug of the shoulders, "It happens..." in a tone that is wise and resigned, but ultimately dismissive.  In other words...No big deal; life goes on.

So on Monday I was out in the drizzle taking photos on a piece of breathtaking property where I was on a retreat with friends.  I spied a lovely little wooden structure housing an old sauna, accessed by a red brick stairway.  There was some sort of white sign attached to the rail at the top of the stairs, but I didn't want that in my photo, so I studiously ignored it as I held the camera to my eye, adjusting the field of vision until the sign no longer appeared in the viewfinder.  I took a few shots and decided to walk closer to the top of the stairs and shoot down....

And down is where I went.  I slipped off the top stair, immediately hit HARD on my tailbone, bounced down a few more stairs, dragging my right elbow on each stair as well, and landed at the bottom breathless and sore.  Really, really sore.  I sat there in the wet for a moment, catching my breath, realizing my friends were about 20 yards away, but no one had noticed my descent.  I wondered if I should call out, but thought not and slowly rose to my feet.  I brushed myself off and was delighted to see I'd protected my expensive camera from any harm and the stairs would make an even more lovely photograph from the bottom shooting up!  So I started snapping pictures.

When I rejoined my friends and recounted my misadventure, I also related that I was pretty darn proud of my quick recovery and gave all credit to my Yoga practice for keeping me flexible and balanced and allowing me to fall with some measure of grace and minimum of damage.  I was relieved by my "it happens" response....

Until an hour later when my left wrist swelled up and became impossible to move without considerable pain.  And my lower back seized up, tailbone becoming the focal point for constant aching.  Ice, pillows, Tylenol and Alleve were prescribed by my sweetly concerned companions, and while at first reluctant, I eventually took their advice and found relief in these remedies.  I was pretty sore for 36 hours.  But still happy that nothing was broken--the fear of the aging and scourge of oftentimes increasingly brittle bodies.

By today, I am nearly back to normal.  I can't really expect to fall down on hard bricks, jarring my butt, hitting my elbow, and twisting my wrist, with no after-effects whatsoever.  But I still think my Yoga practice kept the damage from being worse.  Plus, I got a whole new perspective on the subject matter of my photo!

Oh, and that sign?  I went back to have another look.  It said, "Caution: Stairs Are Slippery".   No duh!   But all's well that ends well.

At least, that's the view from here...©