December 23, 2018

White Dog and most of the Army were at the window to send us off to our meeting. So they were eye witnesses when I swung my leg up to step into the car and lost my balance thus tumbling to the ground. Immediately the pack was keening and howling to be let out to help.

I was twisted on the ground. Fortunately I landed on my hip and bottom so damage was minimal. I moved to see about getting up. THAT was not happening; between yesterday's muscle pull and the normal leg weakness that causes mobility issues I was a man down.

Steve tried in vain to will me upright but I am too heavy to be lifted. He scanned our neighborhood, not a soul was home. The WDA screamed to come out and help; the worry on their faces matched Steve's. I tried shifting again but the pain was mounting and the concrete was very cold.

"I am not broken," I told him. "It will be nasty bruising and major swelling but I cannot get up without help." I swallowed my ego and suggested he call the city's emergency line to send assistance.

Six first responders and a blanket with grab handles lifted me to the height of our van's floor and they maneuvered me inside to lie on the floor. It was quick accomplished but a lifetime of embarrassment for me.

"I must get to the meeting," I told all. "I can ride like this. And after, I WILL go to urgent care if there is a need. I have to be able to get around the house so believe me, I will be practical."

Steve filled out the paperwork then ran inside to reassure the WDA...and off we went. In the wheelchair I was achy but otherwise fine and was able to scrunch back down on the floor of the van without screaming. When we got home, sans stopping for extra care, the White Dogs took a minute to understand why dad was pushing them away from the door. I baby step hobbled in (4 steps to the momma chair) and lowered myself down to the cushion. Each pup came by to sniff and look at me for reassurance.

I am sore now and am beginning to see the bruises coming out. And I have nine of the best floofy caregivers imaginable...plus one still very worried human partner. It is going to hurt and I will be moving slowly I tell them, and I promise if it gets worse or some other issue becomes apparent I will get further treatment.

Fortunately I have no plans for the next few days and can be home-locked. Just in case Steve went out to the storage barn and dug out the half step he made for me so many years ago when I first came home after the Big Sickie. It, even after of these years, passed the WDA test for sturdiness. It went into the van so that in the future I would not need to balance on one leg to get in..

Thankfully, Roman, who understands the challenges of having an unpredictable leg, brought a smile with his rendition of Elvis Presley's (Black and) Blue Christmas.