For those of you who have known me for a long time, this will come as no surprise. For those of you who are just getting to know me - I am a klutz, big time. I have been known to fall up stairs, down curbs, over my own two feet, etc. etc. So when I was walking up and down stairs this morning in the dark, I should have known something would happen.
I fell down the stairs.
Now, down the stairs is not normal for me. Normal for me us up the stairs, no joke. Most people don't believe me unless they actually see it, but believe me that is normally how I fall on staircases. It is normal to hear me screech then find me face down on the stairs. I usually push myself back up, dust myself off and keep going. Not this morning.
This morning was one of the handful of times I have fallen down the stairs and ended up splayed and not able to move at the base of the staircase. I fell a total of about 6 stairs, maybe 5, and just couldn't move. Gotta love it - crying 1 year-old (is he still a baby?) cranky husband, no light because its 5:45am and then I scream. Not schreech, scream.
There isn't a part of my body that doesn't hurt. I don't know what is squawking the loudest yet, but my guess is that it will be my right leg. I always twist that ankle, even when I am not doing anything.
The good news about my klutziness is that I have learned how to do first aid. I learned it a long time ago actually so that I could bandage my own ankle when I sprained it. So, I am on RICE - rest, ice, compression, elevation. Nothing is swollen so the last two can be ignored. Rest and ice, however, cannot.
If only I could get my feet to work and stop making me fall, maybe I could figure out the rest of the mess. Oh well. Back to square 1.