This could also be called, the Price for Overdoing It.
Seven or eight years ago, I was planning to drive to Michigan to visit my family and help my sisters with parent care. Things have changed. My parents had to be separated for proper care.
My two Michigan sisters hated where we had put my dad for full time care. (Alzheimer's, Parkinson's). They decided they had to break him out.I, of course, wished I could be in on a heist.
It wasn't really as dramatic as all that, but one of my sisters decided he should live with her, at least for the present. My mom is exhausted and has to recover.
So, I really wanted to give everyone some break time in Michigan.
Background: A lot going on. I was trying to be everything to everyone. I have since stopped that nonsense.
So, I was not as focused as I should have been as I started down the stairs in my socks and awkwardly packed suitcase. ( I packed by literally throwing things in the suitcase, and it was totally off balance.)
I reached the fourth step up from the ceramic floor in my foyer and suddenly lost all control of my footing. It happened quickly, and it happened painfully. Flat on my back. Pain. I didn't want to move for a few seconds because I was scared that I would discover something broken.
I lay there, and I won't go into what I actually said at this time. It has something to do with the choice of first letters in my title. Many of you may know that it is one of my favorite go-to words.
I moved arms, legs, and fingers to check if anything was broken. Didn't think so. Started to pull myself up and realized that the only way I would be able to do that was by slightly rolling to my side and pushing myself up.
So, here is where things get even weirder. I assumed I could still drive the 300 miles to Michigan. I HAD PROMISED! I painfully lugged the suitcase to the car, though I could barely lift it into the trunk.
I opened the driver's side door, and carefully lowered myself into the seat as every muscle that was connected to my glutes started to signal pain. Pulled out of the driveway and headed for the border. (Ohio)
I called and left messages for my sisters to tell them that there was a chance I wouldn't make it and that I would decide when I got to Ohio. I called my husband who was, of course, very concerned.
The first exit in Ohio was closed and I was starting to realize how absurd this actually was. At this point, one of my sisters returned my call and the words I heard first were these:
"Are you crazy? Go home! Think if someone said to you,
'I fell down the stairs and now I am going to drive 300 miles alone.'"
Well, when she put it that way....
I needed to hear that. (She told me later that she thought, well, if she comes anyway, she will at least get a post or article out of it, telling people what NOT to do.)
I turned around to go home. I planned on seeing my chiropractor, but when I got home, after driving for 3 1/2 hours, I was in so much pain, I did not want to have anyone touch me.
I should have gone to see him at least the next day. I spent a painful weekend and finally on Monday, and got the help I needed.
Everyone in his office was so concerned! He listened carefully then examined my stance, my back, hips, etc. I was all out of whack. He gently adjusted me, helping me move on the table. It was amazing! I felt totally different and though the gluteal muscles were still in pain, I was on the road to recovery. It did take about six weeks before everything healed but I want to share the life lessons learned.
Life Lessons Learned:
Stop trying to do so much
Pay attention when walking downstairs.
Focus on packing.
Don't try to drive in pain.
Get Medical Attention if needed
Rest.
Focus.
Focus.
Focus.
Focus.
P.S. Don't Fall Down the Stairs.
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