Just Call Me Grace....

2/2/2017

Yesterday's chore was to clean (i.e., mop) the basement floor which is concrete.  I went down to the bowels of the house armed with a bucket, brush and rags.  I was making good progress, until I slipped in the water.  This is the part where "my being Grace" comes in.  Down I went and my right knee reached the floor before my left knee.  I guess that was good news.  Initially, all I could do was basically lay on the floor and feel sorry for myself.  No sense calling for help and none of the dogs are Lassie, so they were no help.

After my initial shock of falling, I knew I had to get up off the floor somehow.  I couldn't just lay there for several hours until Jeff came home.  It took me a lot of time to get my left knee up underneath me.  After doing that, I pulled myself (no easy task) up onto a small stool.  Once I thought I had my left leg firmly planted on the ground, I then dragged up my right leg.

I got upstairs and sent Jeff an email.  He came home early, but by then I had taken a pain pill so was half sleeping in my recliner.  Dinner was a mix of leftovers. I went to bed early, but the girls decided it was time at 6:00 for me to get up.  They managed to pull the clothes hamper over and scattered dirty clothes everywhere.

I've come to the conclusion that mopping is bad for my health!  After I finish this blog, I'm going to go upstairs to get dressed and start my day.  I'm going to try and avoid the stairs as much as possible, and unfortunately I was only able to clean about 1/4 of the basement floor. 

Today, after corresponding with my doctor, have ordered one of those "help, I've fallen and I can't get up" devices.  I always sort of laughed when I saw those commercials, but sometimes you just have to swallow your pride and admit that you MIGHT need help as you stumble and fall through life.

P