Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Bring on the Depends: Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!

In my e-mail the day before my 30-[harump]th birthday, I spied the subject line on a message from my brokerage firm: "Older birthdays offer extra reasons to rejoice!"

Older birthday - are you kidding me?! I'm only in my mid 30s and there is NO NEED TO RUB IT IN! I calmed down a bit when I realized that message was general distribution of an article for the over-50 crowd, and nothing to do with my own birthday.  Okay, Mr. Broker-dude, I guess I won't trade YOU in for a younger model... YET.

We went to Target (LOVE the Tar-jhay) on Monday night to acquire a Wii Fit game which I had requested as a birthday present.  Yes, I bought my own birthday present.  It's just easier that way sometimes, isn't it ladies?  D and I were strolling down the wide aisle right behind the checkout lines.  Next thing I know I'm barely avoiding a full-on faceplant, ending up on my hands and knees.  As best I can remember, I turned my ankle and in the process of shifting my weight to the leg that wasn't collapsing from under me, the rubber sole of my other boot stuttered on the buffed shop floor, leaving me pitching forward with no way to rescue my balance, or dignity.  It was totally one of those slow motion milliseconds when you know something very bad is about to happen and you are powerless to stop it.

D looked stunned.  One second I'm there walking beside him and the next - WHAM! - I've just disappeared, prostrate on the floor.  In the process of flailing my arms for balance, I had flung my handbag yards away, where it had come to rest nearly at the feet of a woman pushing a shopping cart with two small children.  D hadn't yet noticed the flinging of the handbag, what with being concerned that I hadn't fractured anything.  Still out of sorts, I couldn't form a coherent request for assistance in retrieving it - my top priority over injury assessment - so it was up to me to rescue my lipgloss and what-not.  D said later, "She'd do well in London - that woman just stood there pretending absolutely nothing was happening," as I literally crawled across the floor to rescue my purse, not trusting my ankles to support my weight. 

So now I'm desperate to escape the scene as I'm sure the Target lawsuit-prevention team were on their walkies calling out a concerned blue light run to the location.  And really, since I had nearly fallen on my face on a deceptively flat and clean area of the shop floor, did I want to stick around to explain that no, I was not going to sue them for an incident in which I had once again publicly demonstrated my complete lack of physical coordination?  No, I did not!

I got up and began hobbling away fast as I could manage and D asks me if I'm okay.  I grit my teeth and muttered, "No - but I am humiliated so lets just keep on walking."  He reached out and kind of stroked me on the back, saying "there's nothing to be embarrassed about."  That's love, that is.  A little white lie to save my dignity when inside (after he realized I was going to be fine) I bet he was totally laughing his a** off.  I do too now, when I think about it.

The next morning, sharing the incident with friend J, who had done the exact same thing last summer during a fitness walk with me... but had the benefit of a bonafide uneven sidewalk to blame... we were actually in tears from laughing so hard.  I'm always amazed at the power of laughter to heal the sting of humiliation.

P.S. For anyone who is concerned (hi mom), I sustained no serious injury - only a tender ankle and a couple of wicked bruises on my knees.

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