I fell down them this morning. After sitting at the bottom crying for a little while (and frightening the girls by doing so, I'm afraid), I carefully dragged myself into the bathroom and from a sitting position pressed a cold washcloth over my left foot, which was the only thing feeling any sharp pain. Eventually it stopped. Only after I got home from taking the girls to school did I begin to feel the deeper bruisings.
Some days are like this. You take steps you've taken everyday for weeks, months, years. You do everything the way you've always done it, and suddenly a stair worn smooth is taken with a little too much nonchalance, and you find yourself landing in a battered heap at the bottom. You relieve the immediate damage, but later find yourself the unexpected recipient of steady pain. It accompanies you throughout the day, purple bruises rising through the flesh, messages from the interior.
5 comments:
Ouch! Better soon~
I know exactly what you mean. I'm feeling much the same right now, minus the physical fall.
I hope your bruises heal well and soon.
Ow, ow, ow! I remember falling down the stairs at my mother-in-law's a few years ago; thought I would die! I'm glad at least you didn't break anything.
Would love to see this thought taken further -- as you once said to me: Is that all????? More, please! :)
I've hit that bottom stair and your post depicts the experience aptly. You've described this physically and metaphorically with a clarity which couldn't be bettered.
Heal well, friend.
Thank you all for the concern and condolences. The foot is fine. The tailbone is bruised, but today was much better than yesterday.
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